Draco Malfoy & the Goblet of Fire
by malfoytheseeker
Summary: Draco's year begins with a bang as his father attacks people at the Quidditch World Cup under Voldemort's orders. Not only that, but Potter gets chosen to represent Hogwarts alongside Cedric Diggory in the Triwizard Tournament. As if that wasn't enough, Draco's Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is really starting to piss him off. And why is Hermione Granger being so friendly?
1. 1: The Quidditch World Cup

"Come on, Draco, get up!"

The Malfoy heir groaned as he rose from his enormous bed in the middle of a room ubiquitously coated with green.

"Really? I mean, I've seen you move faster than that. You're a Seeker for crying out loud!"

"And you're annoying," Draco replied as he rubbed his eyes. "Merlin's beard, Blaise, what's all the fuss? It's a Saturday, isn't it?"

"Not just any Saturday, mate," Blaise said, getting up from the armchair he'd been sitting in for the past ten minutes and heading towards the black door with the gold nameplate that had "Draco Lucius Malfoy" in engraved letters. "Today is the day of the Quidditch World Cup!"

Draco sat up straight. "You're joking."

"Not nearly. Don't you remember?"

"Not nearly. I'm feeling a bit out of it right now."

"Coffee? Get dressed and come downstairs. I reckon if you hurry, you'll have enough time for a few sips before we leave."

"Is it really that late?" Draco asked, but Blaise had already gone. Draco showered and went to his closet. It was empty except for a suit _**(the kind Draco wears in the movie)**_. Where were the rest of his clothes? He shrugged and just changed into the suit. He had to admit that it was pretty comfortable.

"Not bad, Malfoy," he said aloud as he glanced in the mirror and ran his hand through his hair.

He graced the steps with a light tread as he jogged down.

"What are you, a girl?" Blaise asked from the breakfast area, pouring himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

"No, I'm just clean," Draco retorted. "You, on the other hand, tsk, tsk, tsk. When was the last time you took a shower? I can smell you from here."

"Ha, ha. It may interest you to know that I took a shower last night and plan to take another one in the tent."

"No, it doesn't interest me at all."

"Sit down, boys," Narcissa said, rolling her eyes. She shoved a platter of pancakes in the middle of the two boys' empty plates. "Help yourself."

Lucius Malfoy strolled into the room, adjusting his robe. "We're to meet the Notts and the Puceys at the Portkey and when we arrive at our destination, we'll find the tent."

"Portkey?" Blaise said through a mouthful of pancakes.

"It's a bit like side-along Apparition, isn't it?" Draco recalled. "Only instead of holding onto another person, you hold onto an object."

"Exactly," Lucius replied, sitting down next to Draco.

"Aren't you clever, Drake?"

"I specifically remember asking you not to call me that, Blaisey," Draco answered, irritated.

"Ugh! That reminds me of when Pansy used to act like a pansy."

"Oh, how stressful those times were!"

"If I recall correctly," Narcissa said, "you were around ten then, hence, not the least bit stressed."

"Oh, but we were," Blaise said. "Pansy, Milicent, and the Greengrass sisters were _always_ over here or at mine, screaming away about there pretty hair."

"Or lack thereof," Draco provided. The two boys burst into laughter.

"Is there something we should know about?" Lucius asked, his eyes carelessly skimming the Daily Prophet.

"Well," Blaise said, "we might have had something to do with their 'bald phase.'"

Narcissa raised her eyebrow.

"It was hilarious at the time-"

"-and now-" Draco put in.

"-and Theo and Adrian were there, too. Besides, I'm pretty sure it was all Theo's idea and doing. The rest of us just watched."

"No it wasn't, and no we didn't. It was your idea, and I'm pretty sure each of us shaved a girl's head that fateful say."

"And nobody noticed you how?" Narcissa said.

"We were all over at Blaise's, but his parents weren't home-"

"-because you'd eaten the last-"

"-that was Theo!"

"Why does it seem to me that everyone blames Theo?" Narcissa asked her husband who merely shrugged in reply.

"Anyway," Draco continued, "the girls were asleep-"

"-I wonder why," Narcissa muttered.

"You know what? That was four years ago. We don't need to explain ourselves."

"Yeah!" Blaise exclaimed. "Now let's go find ourselves a Portkey."

The two boys rose from their seats and rushed out the house.

"Teenagers," Lucius muttered.

"Male teenagers," Narcissa corrected.

* * *

Draco, Blaise, and Lucius had met up with Theo, Adrian, and Theodore Nott Sr. at the Portkey which happened to be a...

"Why are why gathering around a ripped up farmer's hat with...are those crow droppings?"

"Merlin, Blaise!" Draco exclaimed. "It's the Portkey. What did you think it was going to be, a diamond necklace or something?"

Blaise had been thinking exactly that.

"One hand on the hat, everyone," Lucius said, and everyone grabbed the farming accessory.

3, 2, 1.

They all began to spin very quickly, and the next thing the knew, they were high in the air above an open field.

"Boys, let go!" Nott Sr. instructed.

The four fourth-years-to-be obeyed and instantly tumbled to the ground.

_Thud_.

"Ow," Draco groaned. "This hurts almost as bad as it did last year when I toppled from about nine stories."

They continued walking after the two adults had gracefully (of course) landed. Soon, they entered an area with hundreds of tents, booths, and other such things. Their tent was not far from the entrance to the area. Draco stepped inside and was at home. Literally. The inside of his tent was like an exact replica of the inside of Malfoy Manor. Well, not all of it. Just the kitchen, the breakfast area, living room, and three bedrooms (including Draco's) were there.

"Don't you just love magic?" Blaise asked as he passed Draco.

"Mr. Nott, Theo, and Adrian will be staying in the tent next to ours. We all have seats to see the match up in the Minister's box, and it is supposed to give us an excellent view of the playing field. Let's go over, and they'll meet us there."

"Playing field?" Blaise whispered to Draco as the three of them were on their way.

"The pitch," Draco replied in the same tone.

"Adults and their complicated words."

"How is 'playing field' complicated?"

"How far up are we?" Someone asked.

Blaise and Draco turned around to see Lucius replying to Ron Weasley, "Well, let's put it this way. If it rains, you'll be the first to know."

Potter and Granger stepped next to Weasley and his father.

Lucius nudged Draco in the ribs and he spoke, "Father, Blaise, and I are in the Minister's box by personal invation of Cornelius Fudge himself!"

When he stepped forward, Lucius blocked him with his cane and said, "Don't boast, Draco. There's no need with these people."

Potter and Granger turned to leave, but Lucius tapped Potter with his cane and said, "Do enjoy yourself...while you can."

As they left, Draco asked, "What was that all about?"

"Our plan to be rudely respecable."

Draco and Blaise turned to each other and confusedly mouthed, "Rudely respectable?"

They all took their seats up in the Minister's box only seconds before the Irish players swooped into the Quidditch pitch. They flew high up into the sky and burst into fireworks that formed the shape of a leprechaun that began to dance and wave. Suddenly, the creature exploded into red sparks and the Bulgarians came flying through.

"Feels like Christmas," Blaise said, nudging Draco.

"Tell me about it."

One of the Bulgarian fliers sped ahead of his teammates and did a stunt involving hanging onto his broom with only one hand.

"That there," Adrian said, "is the best seeker in the world!"

"Viktor Krum," Draco breathed in awe.

A large moving picture of Krum appeared in one part of the stands and everyone chanted his name. Krum himself flew up and pumped his fist in the air.

The Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge, got up and said to the entire crowd, "As the Minister of Magic, it gives me great pleasure to welcome each and every one of you to the final of the 422nd Quidditch World Cup. Let the match begin!"


	2. 2: The Attack

The Irish won by only ten points because Viktor Krum decided to catch the snitch.

"That was bloody brilliant!" Theo exclaimed once they were in Draco and Blaise's tent.

"Truly," Adrian agreed, "but where do you recckon your father's gone?"

"Draco," Blaise said, "your father's gone as well."

Draco just shrugged. Suddenly there was a chorus of screams.

"What the blazes was that?" Adrian asked. He stepped outside, followed by the other three. Their mouths dropped.

About ten meters away from them, floating in midair, was the Muggle family that took care of the campsite where this year's World Cup was held. The woman was shrieking as she tried to cover her underwear with her dress which was falling as she was upside-down. The two children were crying and the man was shouting.

All around the boys were tents on fire. Figures in dark robes and masks were attacking people everywhere.

"I have a feeling I know where our fathers are," Theo said.

"I wonder where my father is," Blaise said.

"Probably with them," Adrian said. "I don't know why he just didn't come with us to the World Cup if they were going to be here anyway. I wonder if my father's here."

"The Puceys had declared themselves neutral, right?" Theo asked.

"Yeah, I was just wondering."

The Puceys had not fought in the first war, but being purebloods, they had been spared and received protection from Voldemort. Of course, they had to pay for their protection since they weren't partaking in the the was. They paid for the Death Eaters' supplies and other such things. The Zabinis, on the other hand, were forced into fighting. Blaise's mother fully supported the Death Eaters, but his father, a foreigner from Italy at the time, had to go along with it.

Draco didn't know why the others were taking this so lightly.

"Let's just go inside," Blaise suggested. He stepped in the tent, followed by Theo. Adrian was about to step in when he noticed Draco staring up at the clouded moon.

"You coming?" he asked Draco.

"Give me a minute," Draco replied without looking away.

Adrian shrugged and left.

Draco glared at the light that peeked through the darkness. Where was that light before, huh? It was just _now_ coming through. Well, it was too late for that wsn't it?

Draco didn't now why he was likening what he was seeing to the Death Eaters' destruction march, or whatever it was called. But he saw the similarities. Times were dark, and people had hope. Draco sighed and turned to go inside as he realized that he hadn't any hope left.

"There you are," Blaise said.

"Why are you guys taking this so lightly?" Draco asked, frustrated.

"What do you mean?" Theo said.

"The Death Eaters! They're running around, doing all this stupid stuff. Don't you know what this means? He's getting stronger and more dangerous."

"Don't be ridicu-"

"I'm not being ridiculous!" Draco cut off Blaise. "Don't you see? The fact that he's managed to rope my father in again should be proof enough."

"Your father's just doing this to keep people's suspicions in check," Adrian suggested.

"Yes, but this was obviously an organized attack. And which Death Eater do you think would be powerful enough to plan and lead this? None of them!"

"Calm down, Draco," Theo said, wary.

Draco glared at him and strode back outside. But this time, the clouds weren't the only things covering the moon.

He ran back inside. "All of you, come on!" Without any explanation he dragged his friends outside.

"What is it, mate?" Blaise asked.

"Look," Theo said, pointing.

"The Dark Mark," Draco confirmed. Up ahead, Draco could see a figure running away. There was another figure at least twenty meters from where the figure had stood.

"Harry!"

Draco turned his head to see two more people approaching the third. The Golden Trio.

"Where've you been?" A female voice which Draco presumed to be Granger asked. "We've been worried."

The three of them then saw the Dark Mark. Suddenly, multiple voices from all sides of the Trio yelled, "Stupefy!" and the Trio ducked.

Everything was a lot clearer and Draco could see Arthur Weasley running past someone, shouting, "That's my son!"

He ran up to the fourth-years-to-be.

"Ron, Harry, Hermione, are you alright?"

The man Weasley Senior had pushed past earlier caught up to them and pointed his wand at the three teenagers,

"Which one of you conjured it?"

"That's Barty Crouch," Blaise whispered to Draco. "He works at the Ministry. Sent his own son to Azkaban once for being a Death Eater."

Draco nodded in acknowledgement and continued to watch the scene in front of him.

Crouch was now saying, "You've been discovered at the scene of the crime!"

"Crime? What crime?" Potter asked in confusion and Draco mentally facepalmed.

"The Dark Mark, Harry," Granger whispered, "it's _his_ mark."

"Voldemort," Potter realized. "Those people tonight, in the masks, they're his too, aren't they? Followers."

Arthur Weasley nodded and answered, "Death Eaters."

Draco saw Theo cringe.

"Follow me," Crouch said to the other Ministry officials.

Potter stepped forward. "There was a man before. There!" He pointed straight ahead.

"All of you, this way!" Crouch ordered.

"A man, Harry?" Arthur Weasley said. "Who?"

"I don't know. I didn't see his face."

The four Slytherin boys rushed back inside the Malfoys' tent.

"Did any of _you_ see his face?" Draco asked.

They all shook their heads.

"Well, it's obvious that whoever it was must've been a Death Eater. He wouldn't have been able to conjure the Dark Mark otherwise."

There was a loud swish of the air and Lucius Malfoy stepped through the tent opening.

"It's time to go home," he announced. "Theo, your father wants you and Adrian back in your tent."

The boys obeyed and left.

Lucius beckoned Draco and Blaise to follow him out side and once they were, he said, "Hold on tightly, now."

Draco and Blaise shared a wary glance before doing as Lucius said and they were swept up in the air like a cloud of black dust.

Traveling not by Apparation, but through the means of a Death Eater's special powers.

* * *

"What was that?" Draco demanded once Blaise had been sent home. "The attack? He's getting more powerful, isn't he? And you're helping."

"Do not speak to me like that!" Lucius said.

Draco's eyes narrowed. "You're even acting like the old you."

"I had no choice but to do it. You of all people should understand that."

"Well, I'm afraid I _don't _understand why you didn't tell me ahead of time! How was I supposed to know that you hadn't been Imperiused again? How am I supposed to trust you now?"

Lucius strode up to his son and grabbed him by the collar. "I suppose you'll just have to," he said, glaring.

Draco pulled himself away from his father and stormed upstairs to his room, slamming the door.

"Selfish pig," he muttered to himself. His father needed to be more careful and he needed to earn Draco's trust because as far as Draco was concerned, no one was to be trusted yet.

Not even his own father.


	3. 3: The Goblet of Fire

The Hogwarts Express let out a large whistle as it crossed what Draco had dubbed "The Bridge Where Everything Happens". He saw a white owl fly out from one of the compartments, carrying a letter. Sitting back down, he turned to Theo, who was reading the Daily Prophet.

"Anything interesting?" he asked.

"The Ministry still can't find out who conjured the Dark Mark," came the reply.

"My father was with yours and Theo's," Blaise said to Draco, "so it wasn't them."

"My father thankfully wasn't there," Adrain said.

"And that gives you the right to be proud, doesn't it?" Draco asked him sarcastically, glaring.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" Blaise asked after sharing a wary glance with the other two boys.

Draco sighed and said, "Sorry. It's just that when we got back from the World Cup, Father was acting like...like he was before."

His friends looked sympathetic, but knew that Draco disliked being pitied, so they said nothing. The rest of the ride was a bit uncomfortable, but eventually they got on the topic of other things, such as candy.

When they got to Hogwarts, Hagrid was shouting, "Clear the runway!"

In the air behind him were four flying horses pulling a large carriage. Hagrid was trying to direct the carriage to land properly but had to jump out of the way before he got hit.

In the lake, a small boat was approaching the castle, but the boat rose. It had been the top part of a much larger ship that emerged from under the water. Its sails bore what Draco reognized as the Durmstrang crest.

He followed everyone else to the Great Hall and sat down with his friends at the Slytherin table. The new students seemed to end up being sorted evenly amongst the four houses.

Dumbledore began to speak, "Now we're all settled in and sorted, I'd like to make an announcement."

The doors burst open and Filch came running through, awkwardly limping.

Dumbledore ignored him and the countless students are turned to look at the caretaker, and continued, "This castle will not only be your home this year but home to some very special guests as well. You see Hogwarts has been chosen-"

Filch had reached Dumbledore and was now whispering something in the older man's ear. Dumbledore nodded and Filch left the Great Hall in the same fashion he had entered.

"So Hogwarts has been choosen to host a legendary event: The Tri-Wizard tournament."

Many students gasped while others kept gaping at Dumbledore like he had said that Winston Churchill was his half-brother. Then again, that may as well have been true.

"Now for those of you who do not know, the tri-wizard tournament brings together three schools for a series of magical contests. From each school a single contestant is selected to compete. Now let me be clear. If choosen you stand alone. And trust me when I say these contests are not for the faint hearted, but more of that later. For now please join me in welcoming the lovely ladies of the Beauxbatons Academy of magic and their headmistress Madam Maxime."

The doors burst open once more, but this time, a group of older girls in light blue uniforms entered and began to dance gracefully. They magically made and released butterfiles of the same color as their uniforms before going off in different directions.

A giant woman strolled down the aisle as a girl in blue spun around a younger girl in a gymnast's uniform. The two girls looked alike so Draco presumed that they were sisters.

The students all applauded as the girls bowed. Draco realized that the two girls were the Delacour sisters. The Malfoys knew the Delacours well because both were French families.

Dumbledore shook the giant woman's hand and turned back to the students. "And now, our friends from the north. Please greet the proud sons of Durmstrang and their high master, Igor Karkaroff."

For the third time, the doors were slammed open and a group of boys in brown uniforms marched in holding sticks. A few of them ran up to the front of the hall and did somersaults, cartwheels, and flips.

Through the doors came none other than Viktor Krum himself, followed by Karkaroff and another man.

Karkaroff strode up to Dumbledore and greeted him amiably. "Albus!"

"Igor!" The two men hugged.

After the feast, Dumbledore requested their attention again.

"I would like to say a few words. Eternal glory. That is what awaits the student who wins the Triwizard Tournament. But to do this, that student must survive three tasks. Three extremely dangerous tasks. For this reason, the Ministry has seen fit to impose a new rule. To explain all this we have the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Bartemius Crouch."

Crouch took the center stage and was about to speak when lightning struck and many students scream. A man emerged from a side door in the Great Hall and silenced the lightning with a soundless spell. It was a man Draco recognized as Alastor Moody, the ex-Auror.

"Ah, my dear old friend," Dumbledore said to him, "thank you for coming."

"Stupid ceiling," Moody muttered in response and took a swig from his flask.

"What do you suppose he's drinking there?" Theo asked.

"I dunno," Draco replied, "but I don't think it's pumpkin juice."

Crouch began to talk, "After due consideration, the Ministry has concluded that, for their own safety, no student under the age of seventeen should be allowed to put forth their name for the Triwizard Tournament."

All the students began to shout and complain.

"This decision is final," Crouch managed to declare through the chaos.

"Silence!" Dumbledore spoke. He raised his wand and only then did Draco notice that there had been a large box of sorts sitting in the hall. Dumbledore unfolded the box and a large goblet with blue flames erupting from it was revealed.

"The goblet of fire," Dumbledore announced. "The Goblet of Fire. Anyone wishing to submit themselves for the Tournament, merely write their name upon a piece of parchment and throw it in the flame before this hour on Thursday night. Do not do so lightly; if chosen there's no turning back. As from this moment, the Triwizard Tournament has begun."


	4. 4: An Unforgettable Class

"Alastor Moody."

It was the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class, and Moody was introducing himself. He picked up a piece of chalk and began to write on the chalkboard.

"Ex-Auror," he spoke, writing his name and then tossing the chalk aside, "Ministry malcontent. And your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I am here because Dumbledore asked me. End of story, goodbye, the end. Any questions?"

No one answered.

He continued, "When it comes to the Dark Arts, I believe in a practical approach. But first, which of you can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?"

"Three, sir," Granger answered without raising her hand. Moody wrote the word "unforgivable" under his name.

"And they are so named?" he asked.

Granger said, "Because they are unforgivable. Use any one of them will-"

"-earn you a one-way trip to Azkaban!" Moody interrupted. "Correct. Now the Ministry says you're too young to see what these curses do. I say different! You need to know what you're up against! You need to be prepared! You need to find another place to put your chewing gum besides the underside of your desk, Mr. Finnigan!"

Everyone turned to face Finnigan.

"No way! The old codger can see out the back of his head!"

"And hear across classrooms!" Moody said, turing around and throwing the chalk at him.

"So, which curse shall we see first? Weasley!"

"Yes?" Weasley turned back to the front of the classroom in fear.

"Stand! Give us a curse."

"Well, my- my dad did tell me about one. The Imperius Curse."

"Oh yeah, your father would know all about that. Gave the Ministry quite a bit of grief a few years ago. Perhaps this will show you why."

He went to a table and picked a spider out of a jar. He enlarged it and then said, "Imperio!"

He first threw the spider onto Dean Thomas's desk, then onto Crabbe's face, then onto Parvati Patil's arm.

"Don't worry, it's completely harmless." He dangled the spider over Weasley's head. "But if she bites," he dropped the spider, "she's lethal!"

Draco burst out laughing.

"What are you laughing at?" Moody said and flung the spider at him. Draco ducked, and the spider hit Blaise.

"Ugh!" Blaise groaned. He brushed the spider off his face.

"Talented, isn't she?" Moody said. "What shall I have her do next? Jump out the window? Drown herself?" Moody brought the spider back over to him.

"Scores of witches and wizards have claimed that they only did You-Know-Whose bidding under the influence of the Imperious Curse. But, here's the rub: how do we sort out the liars?"

Blaise, Theo, and Adrian all unconciously looked at Draco who was staring down at his desk. From her seat, Herimone noticed this.

"Another?" Moody prompted. Loads of people raised their hands. "Longbottom, is it?"

The Gryffindor rose.

"Professor Sprout tells me that you have an aptitude for Herbology."

Longbottom said, "There's the, um, the Cruciatus Curse."

"Good! Come here." Moody set the spider on the table by the chalkboard and said, "Crucio!"

The spider began to writher in pain. Draco could do nothing but stare at it.

_**"...you, heir to one of the most powerful pureblood families in the wizarding world, are a squib!"**_

_**"Therefore, you must be punished. Crucio!"**_

"Draco. Draco. Draco!" Draco blinked. The entire class was staring at him.

"Something you would like to share with us, Mr. Malfoy?" Moody asked.

Draco shook his head.

Moody turned his attention to the rest of the students and said, "If what you saw brought you pain, imagine what it must feel like. I have a hunch that only one person in this classroom has ever felt this curse before."

Draco furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his professor.

"Of course, it's only a hunch. Anyway, I bet each and every one of you would scream and cry if this curse was put on you. No one is immune to this curse."

"I am."

Once again everyone looked at him. Draco didn't know why he said that.

"You?" Moody said.

Draco nodded.

"Why?"

"The Malfoys can't feel pain," Draco made up. "It's a family thing. I don't know too much about it."

"Then perhaps you would like to demonstrate for us."

Draco stood up.

"No, Draco!" Blaise whispered. "What are you doing?"

Draco ignored him and slowly walked up to the front of the room.

Moody eyed Draco warily before saying, "Crucio!"

Draco was immune, but only because he had felt this many times before. He didn't even react. Yes, his body was searing with pain and he was aching, but he did nothing except scratch his arm for a few seconds. He had learned to control his emotions, to not let his pain show, especially after the episode with his father.

Moody removed the curse and as Draco walked back to his seat, everyone, even the Gryffindors, applauded him. Moody looked at his wand and looked like he was trying to figure out if there was something wrong with it.

"Excellent bravery, Mr. Malfoy. Could you give us the last Unforgivable Curse?"

Draco packed up his belongings and slung his bag over his shoulder. He marched up to the front of the room, pointed his wand at the spider, and said, "Avada Kedavra!" before leaving the room.

Before he left, he noticed Moody looked a bit impressed. The professor stuck his tongue out and licked the right corner of his lower lip. He then drank from his flask.


	5. 5: The Champion Selection

_**Warning: Flashback heavy**** chapter.**_

The Champion selection was quickly approaching, and students from all three schools were entering their names in the Goblet of Fire. A group of Hufflepuffs started cheering when Cedric Diggory jogged up to the goblet. The others politely clapped.

"Eternal glory," Ron said to Harry. "Be brilliant, wouldn't it? In three years from now, we'll be old enough to be chosen."

"Yeah, well rather you than me," came the reply.

"Yeah! Yes!" They turned around to see Fred and George running in with bottles in their hands.

"Well, lads," George said, "we've done it!"

"Cooked it up just this morning," Fred added.

"It's not going to work," Hermione said in a singsong voice.

"And why's that, Granger?" George said.

"You see this? This is an age line. Dumbledore drew it himself."

"So?" Fred asked.

"So, a genius like Dumbledore couldn't possibly be fooled by a dodge as pathetically dimwitted as an aging potion."

"Ah, but that's why it's so brilliant."

"Because it's so pathetically dimwitted," George said.

Both boys stood up and shook their bottles.

"Ready, Fred?"

"Ready, George."

"Bottoms up!" they said together and took their potions. They jumped inside the age line. Nothing happened.

"Whoo!" the students cheered.

When it had silenced once more, the twins slipped their names into the goblet. Nothing happened.

"Yes! Whoo!"

Then all of a sudden, the blue fire swirled around and threw the twins backwards about three meters. Everyone turned to look at them. They both had long white hair and white beards that could give Dumbledore a run for his money. The students began to laugh at them.

"You said-" both boys started and then Fred attacked George. Everyone surrounded them and yelled, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

Except for Hermione. She just sat down on a step and opened her book. Then everyone became quiet. Viktor Krum walked through the Great Hall's doors. He placed his name in the goblet and turned back to leave. As he did, he gave Hermione a piercing, curious look.

Hermione frowned. She didn't like the way Krum just looked at her. That was the way Hermione looked at-correction-_used__ to _look at Malfoy. Of course, she'd decided that he was an arrogant prat and was totally not interested in him.

She sighed. No, that was a lie. She still hadn't gotten over him. People usually didn't have crushes that early on in life, or for that long of a time. Besides, there was nothing attractive about his personality. Why did she like someone who was rude, mean, spiteful, and bad in every way imaginable. He hadn't been through any hardships in life. He had everything one could ask for and he still acted so ungrateful and prejudiced. She probably only liked him because he was good looking, and Hermione certainly wasn't one to superficially judge people. But there were those times when he had made her laugh with his wit, surprised at his knowledge, gape at his courage, all the way back from first year...

_**"Oh, totally, Potter. Because graveyards have life-sized chess pieces."**_

_**...**_

_**"Of course. Let me just apologize for saving your lives and time. Speaking of which, Quirrell's probably already down there."**_

_**...**_

_**"Excuse me! I've beaten you in every class!"**_

_**"You know this because which professor told you?"**_

**...**

_**"The second from the left and right taste identical. Two of the bottles are only nettle wine, so it's obviously those ones. The potions on the left side of either are poisoned, so that leaves the third and fourth from the left, and the potions at the right end. The last one will not help you move forward, yet it can't poison you. That's the one that will take you through the purple fire and back into the chess room. That leaves the dwarf and giant. One has to be poisoned, but it obviously won't kill you since it says that in the riddle. The big bottle's obviously got enough potion in it for more than one person, and I highly doubt it's that one. So the smallest one is for getting through the black flames."**_

_**...**_

_**"Malfoy! You're alive!"**_

_**"No kidding, Granger. For a moment, I thought I was a ghost through whom you couldn't pass. I must admit I am slightly hurt that you care more about your reputation as a goody-two-shoes than my health."**_

_**...**_

_**"I'm not stupid, Granger. I simply duplicated it."**_

_**"We haven't learned that yet! That's N.E.W.T level magic!"**_

_**...**_

_**"So you lied about being able to do N.E.W.T level magic!"**_

_**"No, Granger, I can do some N.E.W.T stuff. I just lied about the potion. Then again, you should be an expert on lying, especially after the troll incident."**_

_**...**_

_**"Oh, by the way, your so called 'friends' are currently flying a car to school."**_

_**...**_

_**"Well, I thought it would kill anyone that looked at it."**_

_**"None of the Petrified looked directly at it, did they? The cat saw the reflection and that camera chap saw it through the camera. I can't remember who else has been Petrified."**_

_**...**_

_**"Granger, quick! Do you have a mirror?"**_

_**"A mirror?"**_

_**"Hurry! Use it to look around all corners."**_

_**"What about you?"**_

_**"I'm going to hide."**_

_**...**_

_**"Which of you can tell me the difference between an Animagus and a werewolf? Mr. Malfoy?"**_

_**"Animagi are wizards who choose to become animals, and which animal they become is dependent on their personailty. Werewolves, on the other hand, are humans who are more often than not bitten by other werewolves, and can turn only into this creature regardless of personality."**_

_**...**_

_**"Is that your cat?"**_

_**"How did you know?"**_

_**"I was just going to ask anyone that came by. You happened to be the first."**_

_**"Oh. Well, I can't take him back to the rooms now, or I'll be late for class."**_

_**"Then don't. He's safe in the castle, and he'll turn up sometime later."**_

_**...**_

_**"How romantic. Are you two shopping for your new dream home? Big, grand view, isn't it, Weaselbee? Doesn't your family sleep in, uh, one room?"**_

_**"Shut up, Malfoy.**_

_**"Ooh, not very friendly. Boys, I think it's time we taught Weaselbee how to respect his superiors."**_

_**"Hope you don't mean yourself!"**_

_**"How dare you talk to me! You filthy, little Mudblood."**_

_**...**_

_**"The Malfoys can't feel pain. "It's a family thing. I don't know too much about it."**_

_**"Then perhaps you would like to demonstrate for us."**_

_**"No, Draco! What are you doing?"**_

_**"Crucio!"**_

_**"Excellent bravery, Mr. Malfoy. Could you give us the last Unforgivable Curse?"**_

_**"Avada Kedavra!"**_

_**...**_

Maybe Viktor Krum's interest in her was a good thing. Clearly, he didn't have a lot going on upstairs, but he was a talented Quidditch player and seemed like a nice person. Perhaps he would take her mind off of Malfoy.

* * *

"Draco, mate," Blaise said as he sat down on his bed the evening after the DADA class. "Feeling a bit reckless today?"

"Just a bit," Draco mumbled from under the covers. Because Defense was his last class of the day, he'd come straight to the dungeons and jumped into his bed.

"Come out where we can see you," Adrian said, sitting down next to Blaise with Theo taking the other side.

Draco pushed back the covers enough so that his eyes could be seen.

"Come on, mate!" Theo exclaimed.

Draco got up and sat cross-legged on the bed. "What do you all want?"

"It's almost dinner," Blaise said. "Also, how you just killed that spider, everyone's talking about it."

"Good."

"No, not good. After you left the classroom, Moody said, 'Death Eaters began as kids. Who knows which one of you will end up as one?'"

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Great."

"Draco, I'm serious!"

"No, I think it's good. People will start to fear me."

"As if they don't already," Theo muttered, only to receive a glare frmo Draco.

"As I was saying, they'll be scared of what I'll do to them. This is good for my reputation. No Slytherin will be suspicious of me. It's all good. Besides, it not like I pulled a knife on McGonagall or anything."

Blaise sighed in defeat. "Whatever. I just think it wasn't necessary. Your reputation is already fine."

"But yours is not. Remember who you befriended in first year? I don't think they'll forget you just like that."

"They're Gryffindors and we're Slytherins. Of course they'll forget me just like that."

* * *

There was a great deal of commotion in the Great Hall. It was the night of the champion selection.

"Sit down, please!" Dumbledore instructed all the students. "And now the moment you've all been waiting for: the champion selection!"

He dimmed all the lights in the hall and reached towards the goblet. The fire turned red and spit out a piece of parchment which Dumbledore caught.

"The Durmstrang champion is...Viktor Krum!"

"Yes! Whoo!"

Krum rose and shook Dumbledore's hand. He then proceeded to go into the champions' room.

The next piece of parchment was a circle with a circle cut out of the middle so that it was a ring.

"The champion from Beauxbatons...is Fleur Delacour!"

Fleur stood up and walked proudly to Dumbledore who shook her hand and sent her on her way.

The final parchment was released.

"The Hogwarts champion...Cedric Diggory!"

When Diggory got to Dumbledore, the older man shook his hand and clapped him on the back.

"Excellent! We now have our three champions! But in the end, only one will go down in history."

Crouch brought a covered object and set it on a pedestal in front of the hall.

"Only one will hoist this chalice of champions," Dumbledore continued, "this vessel of victory, the Triwizard Cup!"

He lifted the cover to reveal a clear and majestic cup with the shade of crystal water.

Suddenly, the goblet of fire began to swirl its flames. Another piece of parchment popped out.

Dumbledore frowned and caught it.

"Harry Potter," he said in surprise. "Harry Potter!"

Potter slowly rose and walked to the Dumbledore and accepted the parchment. He looked confused as he walked to the champions' room.


	6. 6: Dark Times Approach

Draco visited the owlery in hopes of solitude. Thankfully there was no one there. Suddenly, something bit him.

"Ow!" he exclaimed, shaking his index finger which had a large cut. He looked around and saw a brown barn owl circling him with a letter in its beak. The bird dropped the letter onto Draco's head.

He picked it up and opened it. It was from Sirius.

_Draco,_

_We need to talk, face to face. Meet me in the Slytherin common room at one-thirty this Saturday night, and make sure you're alone._

_Sirius._

_P.S. The bird bites._

Now he tells him.

What did Sirius need to say to him? "Thanks again for saving my life?" "I'm currently planning to kill some Death Eaters?" "How's being a wolf working out for you?"

He shoved the letter into his pocket and sent the owl on its way.

* * *

It was one-twenty. Draco plopped down into an armchair by the fireplace. He's burnt the letter when he'd gotten back from the owlery the other day.

On the table next to the armchair, there was a copy of _The Daily Prophet_. Draco picked it up and read the title on the first page: _Twelve-year-old boy to compete in Triwizard Tournament_.

Draco scoffed and read the article.

_Harry Potter, a mere boy of twelve, has somehow entered himself in the Triwizard Tournament, the age restriction for which is seventeen. He is about to compete against three students, not only vastly more emotionally mature than himself, but who have mastered spells that he wouldn't attempt in his dizziest daydreams. But then, of course, he's no ordinary boy of twelve. More than a decade ago, Mr. Potter's parents were murdered by none other than You-Know-Who himself. His entire life, Harry has been brought up by Muggles who treat him like the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. His eyes glistened with the ghost of his past as he admitted that it was the trauma of his past that made him so keen to enter such a dangerous tournament. When asked how his parents would feel if they were alive, he says, choking back tears, "Proud, perhaps. Or maybe more concerned that my attitude shows, at best, a pathological need for attention; at worst, a psychotic death wish." Turn to page four for the complete story._

Draco choked back his own tears of hysteria; the article was so stupid! He tossed the paper into the fire and relaxed.

_Cough, cough_.

"What was that?" Draco asked himself as he pulled out his wand. He slowly crept up to the fireplace and gaped at it as Sirius's head emerged.

"What the-"

"I don't have much time, Draco, so I'll get straight to it. Harry didn't put his name in the Goblet of Fire."

"Which means...?"

"Which means that someone in this building is trying to kill Harry. Now can you think of a reason why someone would want to do that?"

"I can think of plenty. He's annoying, arrogant, daft-"

"Serious reasons!"

"Okay, uh, he's hated by Voldemort who couldn't defeat the godforsaken one-year-old?"

"Precisely."

"So you're saying that Voldemort's in the castle?"

"Not him. I don't believe that he is strong enough. However, there are others. Look, the Death Eaters at the World Cup, Harry's name rising from the goblet, these aren't just coincidences. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore."

"What are you saying?"

"The devils are inside the walls. Igor Karkaroff, he was a Death Eater. And no one, no one stops being a Death Eater. Then there's Barty Crouch- heart of stone- sent his own son to Azkaban."

"Do you think one of them put Potter's name in the goblet?"

"I haven't a clue who put his name in that Goblet, but whoever did is no friend to him. People die in this tournament."

"So if they're no friend to Potter, they're a friend to me?"

"Perhaps not to you, but an associate of your father's. Now, I'm not trying to imply anything-"

"I know. I understand."

"Anyways, I just spoke to Harry. He said he had a dream. Voldemort was in a chair and in front of him were Wormtail and another man he couldn't identify. An old Muggle man approached the room the others were in, and Nagini, Voldemort's snake, told her owner that the man was there. Voldemort then killed the man. Now, I've told Harry that this is just a dream, but I think it has actually happened."

"Wait, that wouldn't be the Muggle caretaker?"

"What?"

Draco explained his father's little episode before saying, "This is why I decided to go around Muggle London without telling anyone. Just to get away. Anyway, I found some Muggle newspapers and started reading them, you know, to blend in. In it, a gardener called Frank Bryce was mentioned. He had been killed recently, but no one knew why or how. Apparently, he was the Riddles' gardener."

"Draco, you have just provided me with extremely valuable information. I will be informing Dumbledore of this."

"Alright."

"Now, remember. Hard times are coming. You must keep your friends close and your true enemies closer and fooled."

There were footsteps.

"Someone's coming!" Draco whispered.

"Exercise caution!" Sirius replied before leaving. Draco quickly sat down on the armchair again.

Soon, Pansy appeared. "I thought I heard something."

"It's just me," Draco replied, gazing at the fire. "Couldn't sleep."

"Me either." She came over and sat down across from him. "What do you think will happen?"

"Hmm?" Draco looked up.

"I can tell that dark times are ahead. Don't tell me that you don't know that your father was an attacker at the World Cup."

"I know that very well," Draco said, gritting his teeth.

"Good. Then you should also know that You-Know-Who is getting stronger."

"Yes. And your point is?" Draco felt frustrated when Sirius's words came back to him.

_Keep your friends close_.

"Sorry, Pansy, I'm just a bit frustrated."

"I understand. Hopefully, this trouble won't last long." She got up from the sofa and headed towards the girls' dorms. "See you tomorrow, er, I guess in about six hours."

"See you," Draco said, closing his eyes and sighing. Was there any hope left?

He pushed that thought out of his head and forced himself to rise. He dragged himself to his room and threw himself onto his bed.


	7. 7: Ferrets, Dragons, & Rumors

Draco sat on a tree branch and stretched his arms out. Today was all about making enemies with the Gryffindors. Otherwise, it would be first year again. Besides, with Voldemort getting "stronger" as everyone kept putting it, Draco would need to ensure the Death Eater clan that his loyalties lied with them.

Potter was storming past the tree. He seemed frustrated so Draco called out to him.

"Why so tense, Potter? My father and I have a bet, you see. I don't think you're gonna last ten minutes in this tournament. He disagrees. He thinks you won't last five."

He laughed and jumped down from the tree. His three roommates, Crabbe, and Goyle surrounded him.

"I don't give a damn what your father thinks," Potter spat. "He's vile and cruel, and you're pathetic."

He turned around and Draco pulled out his wand, but before he could do anything, he was suddenly half a meter tall...and furry.

"I'll teach you to curse someone when their back is turned!" Professor Moody came out of nowhere and using his wand, he lifted Draco into the air and swung him around.

"You stinkin', cowardly, scummy, backstabbing-"

"Professor Moody!" a voice called. It was Professor McGonagall. "What are you doing?"

"Teaching."

"Is that a student?"

"Technically, it's a ferret."

With one swift hand motion, McGonagall turned Draco back into a human. Glaring at Moody, Draco fixed his hair with his wand and struck at the professor with a disarming spell. Being an ex-Auror, Moody deflected it.

By this time, many students had gathered around to watch a fourth year take on an ex-Auror and not lose. Hermione was there, too. She stared in awe as Draco carefully maneuvered around in a circle and shot curse after curse at his professor.

"Enough!" Professor McGonagall screeched. She conjured a wall in between the two, and both wizards flew back.

"Professor Moody, we do _not_ use Transfiguration as a punishment. And both of you should note that dueling is _not allowed_!"

"He started it!" Draco said.

"And I am ending it. Everyone, go to class!"

As Draco was leaving, Moody came up to him and said, "Your father will be proud to hear about your excellent skills."

He did the weird tongue-slip thing again and then took a swig of whatever from his flask. Draco nodded at him and went inside.

On the other side of the courtyard, Hermione was walking to class with Ron and Seamus.

"That was bloody hilarious," Ron was saying, "how Malfoy got himself turned into a ferret."

"He's an excellent duelist," Hermione blurted out before she could stop herself. Both boys turned to look at her.

"Did you really just say that?" Ron asked her.

"Well, it's true. I mean, you saw him fight. Professor Moody is an _ex-Auror_. He's the best of the best. And yet, he finds himself unable to hold off against a fourth year."

"Or he could be an imposter."

Hermione scoffed. "I'd like to see you duel like either of them. You wouldn't attempt it in your diziest daydreams."

"Why are you supporting Malfoy?"

"I'm not. I'm just saying...you know what? Who cares? Let's just get to class." She marched inside.

Ron and Seamus share a glance at each other and shrugged before following her.

* * *

It was the day of the first task. Draco was seated in the bleachers with Blaise, Theo, and Adrian. They were getting ready to watch the champions battle dragons. A caged Swedish Short-Snout was placed into the pit in front of them. A few dragon tamers quickly chained the dragon to a rock or something Draco couldn't see very well, and they left. A minute later, the cannon went off and Cedric Diggory exited the champions' tent.

He used a Transfiguration spell to change a rock into a dog to distract the dragon. He was partially successful; the dragon took the bait, and Diggory went for the Golden egg. Halfway through, the dragon turned its attention back to the Hufflepuff, and burned his face. Diggory retrieved the egg, however, and passed the task.

Second was Fleur Delacour, who faced a Common Welsh Green. She enchanted the dragon to sleep, but while retrieving the golden egg, the dragon snored and let out a jet of flame that set her skirt alight. She extinguished the flames, and retrieved her egg.

Viktor Krum was third, facing a Chinese Fireball. He used the Conjunctivitis Curse to blind the dragon and retrieve his egg. However, he was docked points when the dragon stumbled around and smashed half of the real eggs.

Last was Potter himself. His dragon was a Hungarian Horntail. At first, it looked like Potter was going to die; the dragon kept striking him with its tail, although it missed each time. Finally, Potter said something that sounded like "Accio Firebolt!" and soon enough, a broom was zooming through the air. It flew right to Potter who managed to jump onto it and ride away. The dragon broke loose and took after Potter and for a good five minutes, no one saw anything. Then out of the blue, Draco saw Potter flying straight for the egg.

Potter ended up tying with Krum for first. Diggory got second, and Fleur got third.

It was noon, so the whole school poured into the Great Hall for lunch.

"Some task, wasn't it?" Theo said as they sat down and helped themselves to the delicious foods.

"You bet it was," Blaise replied.

"Honestly, I don't care who wins," Theo said, "as long as it's not Durmstrang."

"So you do care who wins?" Adrian said, grinning.

"Shut it."

A tawny owl swooped in front of Draco and dropped the Daily Prophet onto his mashed potatoes. It perched on Draco's spoon and held out its left leg. A small pouch was tied to it. Draco fished around in his robe pocket and brought out a Knut. He slipped it into the pouch and the bird flew away. He stuck the paper in another pocket; he would read it later.

Draco went back to the Slytherin common room after lunch. It was a Saturday and Draco had absolutely nothing to do. He pulled out the paper. On the front page, there was a shot of Potter and Granger hugging and under it was an article.

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to be developing a taste for famous wizards. Her latest prey, sources report, is none other than the Bulgarian bon-bon Viktor Krum. No word yet on how Harry Potter's taking this latest emotional blow._

Draco turned the page when he decided that the article wasn't worth reading. However, the next page caught his attention:

_**Sirius Black**** Spotted**_

_Sources say that Sirius Black, murderer of many and Azkaban's first and only escaped prisoner, has been spotted in London by Big Ben, the clock tower. No one is certain if these rumors are true. The Ministry's best crew of Aurors were sent there immediately after an anonymous tip, but there were no signs of the criminal anywhere. The Head Auror suggests that everyone keep their eyes wide open._

This wasn't good. Draco wondered if Potter had seen this. More importantly, he wondered if Dumbledore had seen it. He quickly got off the sofa and rushed out the door. He didn't stop running until he ran into the headmaster himself.

"Have you seen the paper?"

"I have. I had no idea that Miss Granger was interested in anything other than just books."

"What? No, no no! I mean this!" He thrust the paper into Dumbledore's hands and gave the man a minute to read it through.

"Well, I can't be sure either if these are rumors or actual sightings, but I can assure you that Sirius is safe. He is a smart man, not to mention an Animagus. Now, would you like me to inform Potter of this?"

"That won't be necessary. I just wanted you to know."

"I'll be in touch with Sirius soon. I have a means of contacting him that does not involve owling or the Floo."

"Thank you, Headmaster." Draco took the paper back and turned on his heel.

* * *

"What the bloody hell was that?"

All the Gryffindors turned to see Ron Weasley standing at near the front of the Gryffindor common room.

"Alright, everyone," Fred started, "go back to your knitting. This is gonna be uncomfortable enough without all you nosey sods listening in."

"I reckon you'd have to be barking mad to put your own name in the Goblet of Fire," Ron said.

"Caught on, have you?" Harry responded. "Took you long enough."

"I wasn't the only one who thought you'd done it. Everyone was saying it behind your back."

"Brilliant. That makes me feel loads better."

"At least I warned you about the dragons."

"Hagrid warned me about the dragons."

"No, no, no, I did. No, don't you remember? I told Hermione to tell you that Seamus told me that Parvati told Dean that Hagrid was looking for you. Seamus never actually told me anything, so it was- it was really me all along. I thought we'd be alright, you know, after you figured that out."

"Who- who could possibly figure that out? That's completely mental.

Ron nervously chuckled. "It is, isn't it? I suppose I was a bit distraught."

"Understatement," Hermione muttered under her breath.


	8. 8: The Bloody Dance Class

"Look, Weasley's got a package," Adrian said during breakfast. Draco, who was sitting across from him, turned around to watch Weasley tear open a parcel to find dress robes. Only, it seemed that Weasley didn't know what they were yet.

"Mum sent me a dress?" he was saying.

"Well, it does match your eyes," Potter stated teasingly. "Is there a bonnet? Ah-hah!" He pulled a bonnet out of the package.

"Put those down, Harry," Weasley snapped. Walking over to his sister, he said, "Ginny, these must be for you."

"I'm not wearing that," Weaslette replied. "It's ghastly."

Suddenly, Granger began to laugh.

"What are you on about?" Weasel demanded.

"They're not for Ginny," she answered. "They're for you!"

Everyone at both tables snorted in laughter.

"Dress robes," Hermione explained.

"Dress robes?" Weasley exclaimed. "For what?"

* * *

"I absolutely refuse to teach a bloody dance class," Snape said.

"Severus," McGonagall tried to reason, "do you want the Slytherins to look like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons?"

"They are Slytherins. They are mostly from pureblooded families. They know very well how to dance properly."

"Well, if you're not going to teach them, I will."

Snape snorted. "I wish you the best of luck." With that, he stormed out of McGonagall's office.

How was she going to find the time to teach the Gryffindors _and_ the Slytherins? Unless...

* * *

The Slytherins and the Gryffindors were cramped into the tiny assembly hall, boys on one side, girls on the other.

Professor McGonagall was saying, "The Yule Ball has been a tradition of the Triwizard Tournament since its inception. On Christmas eve night, we and our guests gather in the Great Hall for a night of well-mannered frivolity. As representatives of the host school, I expect each and every one of you to put your best foot forward, and I mean this literally, because the Yule Ball is first and foremost...a dance."

The girls squealed and began to chatter while the boys groaned in agony.

"Silence!" McGonagall demanded. "I have brought both houses together because Professor Snape finds himself incapable of teaching at the present time so I expect you all to be on your best behavior today."

"What she means is," Draco mock-explained to the boys around him, "that Professor Snape has better things to do than help his students prepare for the night of well-mannered frivolity."

All the boys, Slytherin and Gryffindor, snickered.

"So," Draco continued, "no sex-ed."

The boys howled with laughter, and across the room, even Hermione found herself giggling along with Pansy Parkinson, as they were the only two girls to find it funny. How Draco Malfoy knew what sex-ed was, she didn't know, but she assumed that the wizarding world must have had that too.

McGonagall ignored him and said, "Hogwarts has commanded the respect of the wizard world for nearly ten centuries. I will not have you, in the course of a single evening, besmirching that name by behaving like a babbling, bumbling band of baboons. Now, to dance is to let the body breathe. Inside every girl a secret swan slumbers, longing to burst forth and take flight."

"Something's about to burst out of Eloise Midgen," Weasley started," but I don't think it's a swan." The boys laughed again. Eloise Midgen was an acne-prone Gryffindor. Everyone knew that.

"Inside every boy," McGonagall continued, "a lordly lion prepared to prance. Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes?" he said uncertainly.

"Will you join me please?"

Weasel looked startled and Potter had to shove him out of his seat.

"Now, place your right hand on my waist."

"Where?" Weasley looked frightened.

"My waist."

Draco whistled and Weasley glared.

"Now, bend your arm. Mr. Filch, if you please."

The caretaker turned on the music and McGonagall began to lead Weasley in a dance.

"One, two, three. One, two, three. Everyone, come together!"

All the girls jumped out of their seats.

"Boys, on your feet!" McGonagall instructed. "I want everyone moving."

Draco was pushed and shoved around, and he somehow ended up in front of Granger.

"Um," Hermione started.

Without saying anything, Draco place his right hand on her waist and grabbed her right hand with his left. Hermione shuddered at his touch, but Draco thought that she was nervous about dancing itself.

"It's okay," he said. "I know how to dance. It's these stupid Christmas balls my parents used to throw." He shook his head to get the memory out of there.

They danced in silence for a moment before Hermione decided to break the ice.

"You joke, it was clever."

Draco frowned in confusion. "What joke?"

"Snape, well-mannered frivolity, sex-ed, you know."

"Oh!" Draco smiled. "Yeah, I must agree. It was pretty clever. However, I can't decide if the fact that Weasley's dancing with McGonagall is funnier."

Hermione chuckled. "Serves him right. Eloise Midgen is very insecure."

"Oh, I know. That's what made it so funny."

Hermione playfully swatted his arm. "That's mean! You'd better not tell her that." _Oh my gosh, I'm flirting with him!_

"Who's she dancing with, anyway?" Draco asked as he looked around the room. He almost stumbled when he saw her.

"Who is it?" Hermione asked, curiousity getting the best of her.

"Longbottom."

Hermione burst out laughing with Draco.

Draco suddenly regained his composure and sternly said, "This is no laughing matter. They're actually the best dancers here."

"Really?"

"No!"

Herimone started laughing again. She and Draco turned so that Hermione could get a better view.

"You're absolutely right," Hermione said. "They're working very well together when Neville's not trying to look away and when Eloise isn't stepping on his toes."

Draco snorted.

"Shh!" Hermione said. "We can't let them know that we think their dancing is funny."

Draco cleared his throat and closed his eyes, raising his chin and eyebrows. "I'm a highly professional man."

He looked so ridiculous.

"Draco, stop doing that!" Hermione whispered. "You look like an idiot!"

Draco opened his eyes and dropped his mouth in mock-hurt. "How dare you? My swollen pride deflates as does my precious head."

This only made Hermione laugh harder. "Was that an unsuccessful attempt at poetry?"

"I was trying to sound Shakespearan and eloquent."

"It didn't work."

"Thank you for your kind words."

They danced again in silence before Hermione made the brave move to look into his eyes. They both started giggling again.

"Stop," Draco said, "we can't giggle. We're sworn enemies and everything."

"Alright. Okay." Hermione regained her composure only to lose it again.

"Blimey, woman, are you drunk?" But Draco couldn't help but laugh either.

Hermione place her head on Draco's shoulder. Unknown to Draco, she was is pure bliss. Draco, on the other hand, was just having a good time. Hermione Granger was technically still a pureblood. He could certainly ask her to the Yule Ball if he actually wanted to have fun during something as boring as a dance.

He never got around to asking her that day. McGonagall asked everyone to call it a day and leave. Before he had a chance to say something, Granger disappeared.

As he walked to the dungeons with his friends, Blaise said, "You certainly seemed like you had fun. Anything you want to tell us about?"

Draco groaned. "We were just laughing at Longbottom's bad dancing and eagerness."

"Looked like a lot more than that," Theo said nudging him.

"Oh, for crying out loud!"

"Alright," Adrian said, "I believe you. Let's leave the poor bloke alone. I suppose he'll have to answer to the 'sex-ed' joke soon." The four boys chuckled their way to the common room.

Meanwhile, Ron was flustered in embarassment.

"I can't believe she made me dance with her!"

"You're the one who insulted Eloise," Harry said.

"So really, it's your own fault," Herimone helpfully added.

"I suppose, but it was true!" The friends all chuckled.

"Who did you have to dance with, Harry?" Ron asked.

"Padma Patil. Or maybe it was Parvati."

"Oh, come one, Harry," Hermione said. "They're fraternal, not identical!"

"Okay, okay, it was Padma, I think. What about you, Hermione?"

"Oh, just some random person I didn't know."

"Gryffindor or Slytherin?" Ron asked.

"Gryffindor, I think. I don't remember. But if it had been Slytherin, there would have been bloodshed."

"Right you are, dear Hermione."

Hermione almost sighed in relief when they went with her story. However, when she got up to her room, the Patil twins and Lavender jumped at her with questions.

It all sounded like, "WesawyoudancingwithDracoMalfoyhowwasitwasn'titfundidyoualmostfaint?"

"Slow down, girls. What?"

"We saw you and Draco Malfoy dancing together!" Lavender exclaimed.

"And you looked like you were having fun!" Parvati said.

"Parvati says that you two were giggling," Padma added.

"We were...don't tell anyone this...we were actually laughing at Neville and Eloise."

"Oh," Lavender frowned. "That's it?"

Hermione shrugged. "That's it. Oh, by the way, Parvati, was it you who danced with Harry?"

She nodded in reply.

"I thought so."

Harry still didn't realize that Padma Patil was a Ravenclaw.


	9. 9: To the Ball

"It's due after break."

"Why would it be due after break? No one does anything over break."

"Well, it's too much work to do in one night."

"Maybe if you'd started it when the project was first assigned."

"I did!"

"Yeah, you wrote one word and then decided to finish it later."

"Draco!"

"What?"

"That's not fair."

"Come on. Don't be a fairy."

"I'm not. I'm a doxy!"

Draco rolled his eyes and said, "I think I'll just go and ask someone."

* * *

Draco entered the library. He knew exactly who he could ask about the Ancient Runes assignment and get a definite answer from.

"Granger, it's lovely to see you." Draco said, putting on his best innocent-and-polite face as he pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

"What, may I ask, are you doing here?"

"It's a library-"

"No, I meant at this table."

"I didn't realize how unwelcome I was." Draco faked wiping a tear from his eye and said, "Perhaps I'll just leave." He made to get up but Granger stopped him.

"No," she protested, "stay." She smiled at him. "What is it you need?"

"Blaise thinks that the Ancient Runes project is due after break. Isn't it due tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is Wednesday."

"Yes."

"It's due on Friday."

"What? But that's the last day before break starts."

"Exactly."

Draco frowned and then it suddenly made sense. "Oh!"

Hermione giggled. "There we are. Do you really expect her to start a new unit tomorrow and then put it off until January?"

"No."

They both sat there awhile and it started to get awkward.

"So," Hermione spoke, clearing her throat, "are you going to the ball?"

"I suppose. Everyone's going. But honestly? I really don't want to. I've been going to my parents' Christmas ball since before I could walk. And those things were bloody awful. I just hope that the Yule Ball won't be like those."

"Well, Dumbledore's organizing it."

"So we can expect a theme from the 1880's?"

Hermione laughed. "He's got to be older than that!"

Draco joined her, chuckling at her joke. Soon they were both rolling around in tears.

"Stop, we're done." Draco said, clearing his throat.

They started laughing again.

"Stop!" Draco insisted, smiling. "It's like that bloody dance class all over again."

"Alright, alright."

"So are you going with anyone yet?" Draco asked, remembering that he was going to ask her.

"No, not yet. What about you?"

"I was wondering if-"

"Excuse me."

Hermione and Draco looked up to see Viktor Krum with a red rose.

"Yes?" Hermione asked.

"I voz vondering if you vould like to go to the ball vith me."

_No fair, _Draco thought. _He totally stole my line_.

Hermione looked at Draco with a grimace but quickly she wiped the expression and turned to Krum with a nod, accepting the rose. Krum bowed and left.

"Wow," Draco said.

"Just between you and me," Hermione said, "I hate roses."

Draco chuckled. "Then would you have prefered a lotus?"

"I love those! How did you know?"

"Well, I somewhat guessed. I've always thought they were pretty cool. There's a pond in the backyard of Malfoy Manor, in the middle of the garden. There are tons of lotuses and water lilys."

"What's the difference?"

"I think the water lily's petals are thinner and more pointed. Don't ask me; I'm no expert."

"Oh. So who are you taking?"

"Hmm?"

"To the ball?"

"Oh! Well, I was about to ask you using the exact same words as Krum."

"Really?" Hermione's heart dropped. Why did Krum have to come?

"Yeah, but that's alright. I'll just ask Pansy. She's the only normal fourth year I can think of."

"You should have been faster! Now I have to go with Krum."

Draco smirked. "That's your problem, not mine."

Hermione mock-huffed. "How rude! Perhaps I'm better off with him."

"Oh, you don't want to go there."

"I'm just kidding."

"I know." After a pause, he added, "we can still hang out at the ball, though. I mean, it's not like we have to stay glued to our dates' sides."

"Right. Well, I have to get going." Hermione gathered her things and Draco also rose from his seat.

They silently left the library together.

"See you in class," Draco said. He waved and left.

_Why does he have to be so perfect?_ Hermione thought. She was so close to be asked to the ball by him, but Krum just had to come along. She really did hope that she would be able to talk to Draco at the ball. Otherwise, it would be boring.

* * *

"It's due on Friday!" Draco yelled as he walked into the common room. Everyone looked up.

"Sorry," he whispered and the other students went back to whatever it was they were doing. Draco entered his room and repeated what he had said to Blaise.

"Friday?"

"Yes sir, so you've still got time."

"Oh, by the way," Theo, who was also there, said, "who are you taking to the ball?"

"Be right back," Draco said.

He went back into the common room and found Pansy talking with Daphne.

"Pansy, you're going to the ball with me."

"Okay," Pansy said, looking up and then went back to her conversation. Or, at least she tried to.

"No fair!" Daphne wailed. It seemed that she still hadn't matured.

"It's okay, Daphne," Draco said. "I think that Blaise wanted to go with you so that's why I didn't ask you."

Pansy rolled her eyes at his way of avoiding drama with a Greengrass.

"Really?" Daphne said.

"I'll tell Blaise that you'll go with him," Draco answered. He returned to his room and a few seconds later a giant "WHAT?!" could be heard from a voice that was neither Draco's, Theo's, or Adrian's.


	10. 10: The Ball

Draco was sitting on his bed, completely ready for the ball in the suit he'd worn to the Quidditch World Cup. Meanwhile, Blaise was standing in the bathroom, double checking EVERYTHING in the mirror.

"Blaise, it's fine!" Adrian called as he and Theo entered the dorm room. He would be taking Lisa Turpin and Theo was going with Mandy Brocklehurst. Both girls were in Ravenclaw. Even Crabbe and Goyle had managed to find dates, even though they were the desperate ones...in other words, Milicent and Astoria, respectively.

"It's so bloody itchy!" Blaise complained.

"Would you rather go naked?" Theo asked. Draco snorted. Blaise would probably say yes if he didn't have his dignity and sanity to answer to.

Draco knew that tonight wouldn't be as boring as he thought it was going to be. His friends were going to be there with him. And for the most part, the girls he would see were sane. Plus, he'd promised Herimone Granger that he would talk to her at the ball.

Why was he being so nice to her? The ferret confrontation wasn't that long ago, and he'd insulted one of her best friends then. But it was probably because Granger wasn't her usual uptight, lying self. She'd welcomed Draco as a friend.

Draco hoped that she wasn't sharing this with her friends. The last thing he needed was for the world to know that he was civilly associating with a Gryffindor squib-born. But technically, she was still a pureblood. It was just the fact that she was friends with Potter and Weasley.

While Draco and his friends forced Blaise out of their room, Hermione was getting ready for the ball.

"Are you sure you don't need any help?" Lavender asked from their room.

"I'm fine!" Hermione answered from the bathroom.

"Why won't you tell us who you're going with?" Parvati asked.

"It's a surprise."

"Well," Padma, who'd come over from her tower to get ready with her sister, said, "we're heading down to the Great Hall. We'll see you there!"

"Bye!"

Hermione sighed in relief. Sure, they were her friends, but they could get a tad bit annoying sometimes. Speaking of her friends, Harry and Ron probably thought that she was in her room, crying her eyes out. She would show them.

_But that's not the real reason you're spending so much time on dressing up_, Hermione told herself. She wasn't doing her hair for her best friends. She wasn't wearing makeup for the girls. And she most certainly hadn't picked her dress to suit Krum's outfit. She was doing all this for Draco Malfoy. He didn't even think of her that way.

_He was going to ask you to the ball_, a voice in her head said. But that was only because he thought she was more sane than most of the other girls in their year.

Still.

Hermione almost slapped herself before heading out of the bathroom. The second the left the common room she headed back. She emerged from her dorm once more, this time, wearing shoes.

As she descended the last flight of stairs, Parvati, who was standing next to Harry, turned around.

"You look beautiful!" Parvati exclaimed.

"Thanks," Herimone replied. Harry followed his date's lead.

"Wow, Herimone," he said. "You ready?"

Hermione nodded as Krum came up to her and bowed. She put her arm on his and they proceeded to enter the Great Hall.

Draco definitely had to commend Dumbledore on a job well done when it came to decorating the Great Hall. The place looked like an ice palace. Stalactited hung in the air, but it seemed that they had been charmed not to fall. There was a large Christmas tree, brought in by Hagrid himself, at the front of the hall and it was covered with snow, only, the snow couldn't be moved. The ground was normal, but it looked like an ice rink. Overall, it was truly astounding. He voiced this to Pansy.

"I agree," she said. "Dumbledore has gone over the top. This place look completely different than our dining area."

"It's pretty cool, I'd say," Theo chimed in from next to Draco. The three of them turned to the left to see Daphne chattering away about who-knew-what while Blaise did nothing but nod. When he caught Draco's eye, he glared. Draco sheepishly grinned.

"I don't believe he'll ever forgive you for that," Pansy whispered.

"But it's downright hilarious," Adrian stated from Pansy's other side.

"Shush!" Pansy said. "The champions are coming out."

The first couple was Fleur and some Ravenclaw person. They were followed by Krum and Granger.

"Granger's here with Krum?" Pansy asked in slight disbelief.

"Yeah," Draco said, "but it's not like she wanted to. Honestly, I'd say he creeps her out."

Pansy said, "How would you know?"

"I happened to be there when she got asked. She looked so unsure. It was actually quite amusing."

Draco turned back to the champions. Granger had cleaned up nicely, it seemed. Behind her was Diggory and the Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang. Last, but not least (in most people's eyes), was glorious old Potter himself with Parvati Patil.

The champions and their dates approached the dance floor, and everyone gathered around them. Draco caught Granger's eye and winked. He gave her a thumbs up.

Finally, they began to dance. After eight measures (of course Draco knew this. He was trained as a musician.), Dumbledore brought McGonagall onto the floor. Karkaroff and some old lady who looked very stern were next. Surprise of all surprises, Ginny Weasley and Neville Longbotton walked onto the dance floor.

Theo elbowed Draco.

"What?" he whispered. Theo pointed to Filch and his cat. Filch was acting like Mrs. Norris was a beautiful lady and his dance partner. The boys snickered at this.

Soon, everyone was dancing. Draco spun Pansy around and she said, "Thank Merlin we had those dance lessons when we were younger."

After the formal dancing was over, a famous band in both the Muggle and Wizarding world came out. The band was called Skillet and Draco happened to love their music.

They played a few great songs before everyone decided to lift Professor Flitwick and pass him around.

They eased into more of a background song while everyone mingled. Krum kissed Hermione's hand and went to get them some drinks. Hermione was actually having a pretty good time. She walked over to her friends and sat down in Parvati's empty seat. It seemed that the poor girl had been bored to death and had left to dance with someone else.

"Hot, isn't it?" Hermione said, wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead. "Krum's gone to get us drinks. Would you care to join us?"

"No," Ron said, "we would _not_ care to join you."

"What's got your wand in a knot?"

"He's a Durmstrang. You're fraternizing with the enemy."

"The enemy? Who was it wanting his autograph? Besides, the whole point of the tournament is International Magical Cooperation, to make friends."

"I think he's got a bit more than friendship on his mind."

Hermione stood up with a shocked expression. She couldn't believe him. She marched away and retrieved her drink from Krum.

"In the spirit of the tournament," the frontman of Skillet said, "we will be selecting two random yet capable students to take place of our guitarists."

He pulled out his wand and tapped his guitar with it. The instrument shot out a stream of fire that spelled out "Blaise Zabini". Everyone cheered as Blaise, relieved to be leaving Daphne, walked onto the stage. The guitar "selected" another person and of course, it was Draco.

Hermione almost did a spit take. Draco couldn't play guitar, could he? And he didn't seem like the type of person to like a Skillet song.

"This is Rebirthing!" the frontman announced as he stepped off the stage. That was one of Hermione's favorite songs!

Draco played the beginning guitar part and then he began to sing in an unnatural American accent.

_"I lie here paralytic_

_Inside this soul_  
_Screaming for you 'til my throat is numb_  
_I wanna break out I need a way out_  
_I don't believe that it's gotta be this way_  
_The worst is the waiting_  
_In this womb I'm suffocating_

_Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen_  
_I take you in_  
_I've died_

_Rebirthing now_  
_I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_Rebirthing now_  
_I Wanna live my life wanna give you everything_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_Right now, Right now_

_I lie here lifeless_  
_In this cocoon_  
_Shedding my skin cause_  
_I'm ready to_  
_I wanna break out_  
_I found a way out_  
_I don't believe that it's gotta be this way_  
_The worst is the waiting_  
_In this womb I'm suffocating_

_Feel your presence filling up my lungs with oxygen_  
_I take you in_  
_I've died_

_Rebirthing now_  
_I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_Rebirthing now_  
_I Wanna live my life wanna give you everything_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_(I come alive somehow)_

_Tell me when I'm gonna live again_  
_Tell me when I'm gonna breathe you in_  
_Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside_  
_Tell me when I'm gonna feel alive_

_Tell me when I'm gonna live again_  
_Tell me when this fear will end_  
_Tell me when I'm gonna feel inside_  
_Tell me when I'll feel alive_

_Rebirthing now_  
_I wanna live for love wanna live for you and me_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_Rebirthing now_  
_I Wanna live my life wanna give you everything_  
_Breathe for the first time now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_(I come alive somehow)_

_Right now_  
_I come alive somehow_  
_Right now_  
_I come alive somehow_"

At the end of the song, everybody burst into cheers and applause. Draco and Blaise had a hard time getting back to their friends because everyone kept crowding them.

Finally, the two boys managed to escape to the punch bowl.

"I wish they had some real food here," Blaise commented.

"You and me both," Draco replied. Blaise grabbed a cup and filled it.

"Cheers, mate," he said. He knocked his cup with Draco's and left.

"Good job."

Draco whirled around to see Granger looking at him.

"Thanks," he said.

"I love that band."

"Really? I wouldn't put you down as a music girl."

"Well, I could say the same for you. What other bands do you like?"

"Ever heard of Fall Out Boy?"

"Love them! What do you think of..."

They went on for a while, discussing their likes and dislikes in the music industry.

"Well, I'd better get back to Blaise," Draco said. "He had to come with Daphne Greengrass."

"He had to?"

"Um, maybe I suggested to Daphne that Blaise wanted to go, even if he didn't."

Hermione chuckled. "You're certainly in for it."

"I sure hope he's forgotten about it."

"Yeah." There was an awkward silence before Hermione said, "Well, see you later?"

"Yeah."

They both parted in opposite directions. Hermione danced with Krum some more before going to find Harry and Ron. This turned out to be a terrible idea.

"He's using you!" Ron said to her about Krum.

She headed for the Great Hall exit and he followed her. Sh whipped around. "How dare you!"

"Besides," she added, "I can take care of myself."

"I doubt it. He's way too old."

"What? That's what you think?"

"Yeah, that's what I think!"

"Well, for your information, I'm not at all interested in him like that."

"Yeah, but I bet he could have you right here in the Great Hall if he tried."

Hermione's mouth dropped. "Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

Ron looked unsure and saw someone behind Hermione. "Harry!" he exclaimed.

Hermione spun around. "Where have you been? Never mind. Off to bed. Both of you!"

"They get scary when they get older," Ron whispered to Harry, but Hermione heard him.

"Ron, you ruin everything!" She dropped onto the steps and began to cry. The real problem was, she didn't know why she was so upset.

Draco's friends had decided to call it a night. "We're heading down to the dungeons," Blaise said. "You coming?"

"I think I'm gonna go find Dumbledore," Draco replied.

"Alright, mate, well, see you later."

Draco made his way over to the punch bowl where Dumbledore was.

"Sir, I have to say that the decoration is amazing."

"Why, thank you, Draco, but of course I had a lot of help from Professor Flitwick."

"It looks cool. I'll see you around then."

Dumbledore nodded and left. Draco exited the Great Hall to find Granger crying on the steps. He instantly rushed to her side.

"What's wrong?"

_Oh great_, Hermione thought. _Draco Malfoy's seen me cry_.

"Nothing," Hermione replied.

"Nonsense."

"It's just Ronald. He takes _everything_ way out of hand. Just because I've come to the ball with Krum doesn't mean that I'll be sleeping with him tonight!"

Draco snickered. "He said that?"

"Of course you're laughing. You boys are all the same."

"No! It's just that it's stupid of you to get upset because he's Weasley. He doesn't know what he's talking about half the time. I mean, the Chuddley Cannons are terrible!"

This actually lifted Hermione's spirits.

"Come on," Draco said, taking her hand and pulling her up. "Let's go dance."

He dragged her to the Great Hall. Since it was later in the night, the slow songs were playing. Draco put his arms on Hermione's waist. She placed hers around Draco's neck.

"See, this night isn't so bad," Draco said after a few songs. He started to walk her to the Gryffindor common room.

"I know. I'm glad you came and cheered me up. Thank you for that."

"It was nothing."

"No, it wasn't." Hermione stopped in front of the Fat Lady's portrait and spoke the password. "We're supposed to hate each other. If not for our houses, then for our friends and our past. My parents are squibs, too, so that doesn't help."

"None of that matters. Well, actually, let's not tell our friends about this. I think we're the only sane ones in the school."

Hermione chuckled. "I'm serious, though. Thank you for being there for me. And not just tonight." She leaned forward and kissed Draco on the cheek. She quickly stepped through the portrait before she could register the expression on Draco's face.

Draco walked down to the dungeons. He wasn't thinking about the kiss. No, he was wondering what she had meant by "not just tonight".

It was in the dead of night when he realized that she had meant through all these years. How he had demonstrated his knowledge, his wit, his strength. It was then that Draco finally realized that Hermione Granger fancied him.

**A/N: So I threw in a little musical performance by our hero. Totally wouldn't happen if he wasn't the character I've turned him into. Normally I'm not a big fan of Draco singing a song that shows up in the world ten years later, but I just had to do it. I know it's incredibly lame and unbelievable. That's the point of this series. By the way, Hermione's feelings are ONE-SIDED so far. Draco thinks of her as no more than an aquaintance.**


	11. 11: Task Two

"Harry, you told me you'd figured out the egg weeks ago!" Hermione exclaimed, frustrated. She and Harry were standing on the Wooden Bridge. "The task is two days from now."

"Really? I had no idea," came the sarcastic response. "I suppose _Viktor's_ already figured it out."

"Wouldn't know. I haven't spoken to him since the ball." Or to Draco.

"Right."

"You _are_ trying to figure this out, aren't you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It just means these tasks are designed to test you, in the most brutal way; they're almost cruel. And um...I'm scared for you. You got by the dragons mostly on nerve. I'm not sure it's going to be enough this time."

"Hey, Potter!" Harry turned around to see Cedric Diggory.

"Cedric," he acknowledged.

"How are you?" the older boy asked.

"Spectacular," Harry replied, trying his best not to sound sarcastic.

"Look, I realize I never really thanked you properly for tipping me off about those dragons."

"Forget it. I'm sure you would have done the same.

"Exactly. You know the prefects' bathroom on the fifth floor? It's not a bad place for a bath. Just take your egg and mull things over in the hot water."

* * *

"Come seek us where our voices sound.

We cannot sing above the ground.

An hour long you'll have to look,

to recover what we took."

Harry finished telling Hermione and Ron about what happened in the Prefects' bathroom.

"So you're saying that..." Ron started, "Myrtle was ogling you this whole time?"

"There are merpeople in the lake?" Hermione said at the same time as Ron. She turned to the redhead and said, "That's what you got from his story? That Myrtle was looking at him? Who cares? The important part is that Harry is going to have to breathe underwater for...what was it again?"

"An hour long you'll have to look," Harry supplied.

"Right. Potentially problematic."

"Potentially problematic?" Harry repeated. "When was the last time you held your breath under the water for an hour, Hermione?"

"I hate to break up the skull session," Moody said as he walked into the aisle. "Professor McGonagall would like to see you in her office. Not you, Potter, just Weasley and Granger."

"But sire," Hermione pleaded, "the second task is only hours away and-"

"Exactly. Presumably Potter is well prepared by now, and could do with a good night's sleep. Go. Now! Longbottom!"

The boy poked his head around the corner.

"Why don't you help Potter put his books back?" Moody asked, but it was really an order. Neville nodded.

"You know, if you're interested in plants, you'd be better off with Gorshok's Guide to Herbology. Do you know there's a wizard in Nepal who's growing gravity-resistant trees?"

"Neville, no offense, but I really don't care about plants. Now, if there's a Tibetan turnip that will allow me to breathe underwater for an hour, then great. But otherwise-"

"I don't know about a turnip, but you could always use gillyweed."

* * *

Draco and his friends got situated on the viewing stands in the middle of the Black Lake. He assumed that these stands had been built here recently and just for the Tournament because he'd never seen them before.

"I wonder what it is that they have to do," Adrian said. They soon found out.

Dumbledore amplified his voice and began to speak, "Welcome to the second task. Last night something was stolen from each of our champions; a treasure of sorts. These four treasures, one for each champion, now lie on the bottom of the Black Lake. In order to win, each champion need only find their treasure and return to the surface."

"Put that in your mouth."

Draco turned around to see Moody instructing Potter. The Gryffindor fourth year had what looked like leaves in his hand. He shoved it into his mouth and started choking. Draco stifled a laugh. Moody thumped Potter on the back a few times.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore was saying, "They will have but one hour to do so, and one hour only. After that, they will be on their own. No magic will save them. You may begin at the sound of the cannon."

_BOOM!_

The three of-age champions swiftly dived into the water. Potter, on the other hand, was still struggling with his gillyweed. (Draco finally recognized it from Herbology.) Moody had to push him into the water.

"What's the matter with him?" Draco heard Finnigan ask Thomas.

"I don't know," came the reply. "I can't see him."

Longbottom turned around and exclaimed, "Oh no! I've killed Harry Potter!"

"If only," Draco muttered as Potter shot out of the water, eliciting cheers from the boys. Longbottom turned around just after Potter hit the water again.

Not to long after the start of the second task, some attendants brought Fleur Delacour out of the water.

Dumbledore said, "The Beauxbatons champion, Miss Delacour, has unfortunately been forced to retire. She will take no further part in this task."

Draco looked over at Blaise and frowned. "What do you suppose happened?" he asked. Blaise just shrugged.

At fifty-one minutes, Diggory and Chang burst out of the water.

"Oh, so this thing that had been stolen," Theo deduced, "was a person."

Next appeared Granger with a shark head that turned into Krum. So Granger was Krum's treasure? Perhaps she didn't like Draco after all. Draco breathed a sigh of relief that she didn't like him.

An hour had almost passed.

"Devenir patet," Draco whispered, whipping out his wand and pointing at the water before him. The entire lake became clear and he could see everything. However, since he didn't perform the spell extension that would enable everyone to see through the water, only Draco could see through it. Not too far from him was Potter, holding onto two people. He suddenly let them both go and started to sink. He was being attacked by the grindylows.

The hour chimed and Ron Weasley and Gabrielle Delacour emerged from the water. Fleur immediately rushed to her sister.

Draco turned his attention back to the water. He watched as Potter somehow managed to blast all the grindylows away from him, but that was all he could do. He sank further and made no move to use his wand again.

_You'll just have to thank me later, Potter,_ Draco thought to himself as he whispered, "Accio Potter."

The boy shot out of the water and landed right on top of Draco.

"Ugh!" Draco managed to groan. "Get him off of me." In his head, he was thinking, _Thank Merlin it worked_.

Soon, the Gryffindor was rolled off of him and given a towel. Draco was given a towel, too, because Potter's landing had gotten him wet.

"I want all the judges over here, now!" Dumbledore demanded. After a bit of fussing from Potter's friends, Dumbledore reappeared.

"Attention!"

But no one was listening. Some people were cheering "Krum! Krum! Krum!" while others rooted for Diggory.

Dumbledore amplified his voice and said, "Attention!" Everyone who was in a five meter radius around the old man covered his or her ears.

"The winner is...Mr. Diggory!"

There was a lot of shouting and cheering.

Dumbledore continued, "He showed unique command of the Bubble-Head Charm. However, seeing as Mr. Potter would have finished first had it not been for his determination to rescue not only Mr. Weasley, but the others as well, we've agreed to award him...second place."

Potter's friends exclaimed in delight while Karkaroff yelled, "Boo!"

"Yay!" some first year near Draco said.

Draco turned to him and pulled his hat down over his face before leaving. Secretly, though, he was very thankful. Hogwarts had to win, whether it was Diggory or Potter.


	12. 12: The Familiar Man

"Congratulations, Potter."

Harry turned to Barty Crouch and nodded.

"Fine achievement. Well done, boy."

"See you at Hagrid's, Harry!" Ron called.

Mr. Crouch took Harry aside and launched into a speech. "I'm sorry we haven't spoken. After all, your story is one I've heard so many times. And quite remarkable, isn't it? Tragic of course, to lose one's family; never whole again, are we? Still, life goes on, and here we stand. I'm sure your parents would be very proud of you today, Potter."

"Bartemius!" Harry whirled around to see Professor Moody walking towards them.

"Not trying to lure Potter into one of the Ministry's summer internships, are we? The last boy who went into the Department of Mysteries never came out!"

After saying that, Moody did what Draco had dubbed the tongue-slip thing. Harry didn't know this or notice this. But Mr. Crouch did. He had seen that before. He walked closer to Moody and examined him before walking away.

"And they say I'm mad," Moody said before he, too, left.

What Harry didn't know was that Mr. Crouch had realized that Mad-Eye Moody was currently being impersonated.

Later that day, as Harry was walking through the woods with Hagrid, Ron, and Hermione, he noticed a pair of shoes sticking out from behind a tree. When he stepped towards the tree, his scar began to hurt. To his shock, the shoes belonged to a dead Mr. Crouch.

* * *

Potter looked both ways before leaving Dumbledore's office. Draco quickly ducked into a side hallway to avoid being seen by Potter. The minute the other boy had passed, Draco hurried to the gargoyle.

"Great. I don't even know the password."

He thought for a moment before saying, "Chocolate frogs."

Nothing.

"Acid Pops. Toffee Eclairs. Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Licorice Snaps. Cockroach Clusters."

The gargoyle finally responded. When Draco walked into Dumbledore's office, he collided with a cabinet. Suddenly there was a large noise and a big shift. The cabinet doors opened and out came a pedestal with a dish on it. The dish was swirling with some sort of liquid.

Draco, who had done so much research in his four years of secret rebellion in the Necessity Room, didn't know what it was. He leaned forward to get a better look and the next thing he knew, he was falling through the air.

Surprisingly, he landed in a seat, unharmed.

Draco looked around. He was in a courtroom of sorts. He turned to his left.

"Professor?"Draco said. But someone else did too. A younger version of Dumbledore turned to face him. He extended his arm right through Draco and the person who'd acknowledged Dumbledore before shook back.

In the middle of the room, there was a cage, and none other than Igor Karkaroff sat in it.

"Igor Karkaroff," a voice announced. Draco turned to see a younger Barty Crouch. "You have been brought from Azkaban at your own request to present evidence to this counsel. Should your testimony prove consequential, Counsel may be prepared to order your immediate release. Until such time, you remain in the eyes of the Ministry a convicted Death Eater. Do you accept these terms?"

"I do, sir," came the desperate reply.

"And what do you wish to present?"

"I have names, sir. There was a Rosier, Evan Rosier."

The man next to Crouch shuffled through some files and handed Crouch a piece of parchment.

Crouch said, "Mr. Rosier is dead."

"Dead?"

"Yeah, he took a piece of me with him though, didn't he?"

Draco spun around to see Professor Moody joking with Dumbledore about his missing eye.

"I didn't know," Karkaroff was saying.

Crouch said, "If that is all the witness has to offer-"

"No, no, no! There was Rookwood. He was a spy."

Crouch frowned. "Augustus Rookwood? Of the Department of Mysteries?"

"Yeah, yeah, the same. He passed information to You-Know-Who from inside the Ministry itself."

"Very well, Counsel will deliberate. In the meantime, you will be returned to Azkaban."

"No! Wait! Wait, please, please! I have more. What about Snape, Severus Snape?"

Draco's fist clenched. This guy would do anything, wouldn't he? Next to him, Dumbledore rose and spoke. "As the counsel is very much aware I have given evidence on this matter. Severus Snape was indeed a Death Eater, and prior to Lord Voldemort's downfall turned spy for us at great personal risk. Today, he's no more a Death Eater than I am."

"It's a lie! Severus Snape remains faithful to the Dark Lord."

This caused a great uproar.

"Silence!" Crouch ordered. "Unless the witness possesses any genuine name of consequence, this session is now concluded."

"Oh, no, no, no, no, no," Karkaroff said in a calm and taunting voice. "I heard about one more."

"What's that?"

"The name..."

"Yes?"

"I know for a fact this person took part in the capture, and by means of the Cruciatus Curse, torture, of the auror Frank Longbottom and his wife!"

"The name! Give me the wretched name!"

"Barty Crouch!"

Everyone turned around and gasped.

"...Junior," Karkaroff finished.

Draco saw a man that somewhat resembled Crouch make a run for it, but Moody was quicker than him. He took out his wand and hit the criminal with a spell. A bunch of people in security uniforms tackled and picked up the wrestling criminal while Barty Crouch Senior gaped in shock.

"Get your filthy hands off me, you pathetic little men!" Crouch Jr. said to the men that were holding him. He was now in front of Crouch Sr.

"Hello, father," he mocked.

"You are no son of mine," came the reply.

"Argh! Gah!" Crouch Jr. was dragged away, and throughout this whole time, Draco had seen him do the tongue-slip thing.

Draco was suddenly pulled out of the Pensieve.

"Curiosity's not a sin, as I said to Mr. Potter a few minutes ago, but you should exercise caution. It's a Pensieve. Very useful if, like me, you find your mind a wee bit stretched. It allows me to see what small things I've already seen. You see, Draco, I've searched and searched for something, some small detail, something I might have overlooked, something that would explain why these terrible things have happened. Every time I get close to an answer, it slips away. It's maddening."

He sat down on the floor.

"Sir, Mr. Crouch's son, what exactly happened to him?"

"He was sent to Azkaban. Destroyed Barty to do it, but he had no choice. The evidence was overwhelming. When I saw Mr. Potter, he had arrived because he'd discovered Barty's body."

Draco frowned. "His body?"

"Mr. Crouch has been killed. Harry came to me but I already knew about it by then. He, like you, saw the memory. He told me that he'd seen Barty's son in a dream."

"With Voldemort, Wormtail, the unknown man, and Frank the Muggle?" Draco said, immediately catching on.

Dumbledore looked at him and said, "Why, yes. Exactly. How did you know about it?"

"Sirius told me."

"Draco, I'm going to tell you something that you cannot tell a soul."

"Yes, sir."

"When Potter told me about his dream, I told him to ignore it. After all, it's just a dream. But I don't think it is. I do recall Sirius telling me about you reading the Muggle newspaper and learning about the incident. The question is, how would Barty's son be there?"

"I don't know about that, but he's here at Hogwarts."

Dumbledore stood up and sternly said, "Do not say such things."

"He's got to be! There's this thing I saw him do in the memory. He slipped out his tongue and licked his lower lip corner. Normal? I thought so. But he kept doing it. Now, maybe he had a condition or something, but I don't think Professor Moody has the same one."

"What do you mean?"

"In the trial, Moody was normal. But during school, I've seen him do the tongue-slip thing multiple times. Everytime he does, he drinks from that little flask he carries around. Don't tell me you think it's not suspicious? I think he's got Polyjuice Potion in his flask."

"These accusations are dangerous. Do you really believe that I can get him arrested by just marching into his office?"

"No, of course not-"

"-not to mention the fact that the real Barty Crouch is in prison."

"Professor, at least look into this."

Dumbledore sighed. "There is not much I can do. But I'll keep my eye on him."

Draco nodded and left the office. So if there was nothing Dumbledore could do, there was nothing Draco could do either.


	13. 13: The Final Task

It really annoyed Draco. Weeks had passed since Barty Crouch's death, but Moody was still hanging around. Not only that, but it seemed that no one knew about the death. There hadn't been any announcements. The Golden Trio wasn't spilling, and neither was Draco. It wasn't like Draco had a choice, though. Dumbledore obviously wanted no one else to know so Draco respected it. Besides, the last thing Draco needed was for people to come up to him and start accusing his father.

Speaking of his father, Draco had received a letter from him not too long ago. It basically said that the Death Eaters were successfully regrouping and there were "big plans". He also mentioned that the key to Voldemort's strength was lack of interference. This seemed to be a hint. Lucius said that if Draco wanted peace, he shouldn't stop what was going on. In the end, Voldemort would be stopped as long as no one interferred. They were bound to go wrong somewhere, just like last time.

Draco scoffed. Voldemort wasn't stupid. Not only that, but lack of interference? So what if the dragon frmo the first task had killed the mighty Harry Potter? What would have happened then? But what really irked Draco was that his father seemed to be getting sucked into this whole thing. It had happened so fast. On moment, he was treating his son like a son, the next, he was out setting tents on fire.

Draco had been going to the Necessity room regularly, but it wasn't until today that he regained his motivation.

He picked up his spell book and whipped to a random page. It was a memory charm, and it could wipe anything from a person's mind. It was definitely a rather complex spell, but it piqued his curiosity. To perform the spell, one had to say, "Obliviate" to enter the victim's mind. Once inside, the caster could select any time frame to delete. Apparently there wasn't a known cure or reverse for this.

Complex? Yes. Difficult? Absolutely not. Possible to practice it? See answer to previous question.

How on earth was he supposed to practice this spell? Well, it seemed that theoretical knowledge would have to do for now.

He couldn't believe how fast the school year had gone by. It was already the third and final task. He sat on the bleachers in front of a large cornfield maze-well, minus all the corn. It was like a large field of grass that was ten feet tall with many cutouts. Draco realized that this, like the second task, was definitely not for spectators. Yes, the stands were high, but not that high. Plus, it was so dark and foggy no one could see a thing if they tried.

The band was playing, conducted by Flitwick. Out of the champions' tent came an old man that Draco had seen before because he worked with Lucius. Cedric Diggory came out next and the old man looked very proud as he grabbed his son's arm and raised it into the air.

The next to emerge was Fleur Delacour. When she did, the rest of her classmates at Beauxbatons performed a cheer in French. Since Draco could speak French, he was able to translate the cheer. Admittedly, the cheer was a little rude towards Hogwarts and Durmstrang, but very supportive of Fleur.

_"Nous sommes français_

_Nous sommes français_

_nous allons gagner le tournoi._

_Vis Hogwarts_

_et Durmstrang trop._

_Ne nous demandez pas pourquoi."_

Draco translated the cheer to:

_"We are French_

_We are French_

_we will win the tournament._

_Screw Hogwarts_

_and Durmstrang too._

_Do not ask us why."_

Well, at least no one else knew its meaning. Plus, it rhymed.

Crabbe and Goyle applauded loudly when Krum came out with Karkaroff.

_What a couple of dimwits_, Draco thought. Crabbe had "KRUM" painted across his forehead in red.

Last, Dumbledore escorted Potter, who looked scared and very unsure of himself. Dumbeldore left Potter and walked over to the podium.

"Silence!" he demanded with his amplified voice. The band slowly stopped playing and everyone in the stands sat down. "Earlier today, Professor Moody placed the Triwizard Cup deep within the maze. Only he knows its exact position."

_Why didn't Dumbledore listen to me?_ Draco thought.

"Now, as Mr. Diggory-"

The Hufflepuffs stood up and screamed.

"-and Mr. Potter-"

The Gryffindors did the same.

"-are tied for first position, they will be the first to enter the maze, followed by Mr. Krum-"

Everyone from that school rose and chanted Krum's name.

"-and Miss Delacour."

The girls in blue did their cheer again.

"The first person to touch the Cup will be the winner! I've instructed the staff to patrol the perimeter. If, at any point, should a contestant should wish to withdraw from the task, he or she need only send up red sparks with their wands. Contestants, gather round. Quickly!"

He stepped away and said something to the four champions that Draco couldn't hear from where he sat.

However, Harry could. Dumbledore was saying, "In the maze you'll find no dragons or creatures of the deep. Instead, you'll face something even more challenging. You see, people change in the maze. Oh, find the Cup, if you can, but be very wary. You could just lose yourselves along the way."

He sent them off to their starting positions. "Champions, prepare yourselves!"

The spectators applauded.

"On the count of three! One-"

_BOOM!_

Everyone glared at Filch, who was in charge of the cannon. The caretaker just shrugged.

As Harry entered the maze, Moody secretly pointed in the direction of the cup. Harry was thankful for this. Draco, on the other hand, had seen this from afar and knew that something was up with the Triwizard cup. Unfortunately, he couldn't say anything about it.

About fifteen minutes later, there were red sparks in the air, and soon after that, a frightened and disheveled Fleur was carried out of the maze.

* * *

"Go on, take it. You saved me, take it!"

Harry turned around and answered Cedric, "Together. One, two, three!" They both grabbed the cup.


	14. 14: Flesh, Blood, and Bone

The two Hogwarts students landed in a large open area. It was dark, gloomy, and desolate. No one was there...or so they thought.

"You okay?" Cedric asked as Harry got up from the ground.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "You?"

Cedric, too, rose and asked, "Where are we?"

"I've been here before," Harry said.

"It's a Portkey," Cedric realized as he looked at the cup. Grinning, he raised his voice. "Harry, the cup is a Portkey!"

"I've been here before!" Harry repeated. "In a dream." Harry approached a large sign, but once he got closer, he saw that it was a gravestone. The name _Tom Riddle_ was engraved upon it, along with the years 1905-1943.

"Cedric, we have to get back to the cup. Now!"

"What are you talking about?"

There was a creak, and a figure stepped out of a doorway.

"Ow!" Harry groaned, clutching his forehead. Flames burst under a cauldron that wasn't there before.

"Harry, what is it?" Cedric asked.

"Get back to the cup!"

"Who are you?" Cedric turned to the figure. It was Wormtail and he carried a tiny body in his arms. "What do you want?"

"Kill the spare!" The body loudly whispered to Wormtail in a cold, high-pitched voice.

Wormtail did not hesitate.

* * *

Lucius was in his study when sudden pain shot through his left arm. The Dark Mark was burning. He was back.

And he was calling.

Lucius instantly vaporized into the air and reappeared at a graveyard. He was wearing his Death Eater mask, but he could still see through it. Other members of the group had arrived and formed a circle around a creature in the middle. It was bald and had dark eyes, its nose, a couple of slits.

"Welcome, my friends," his cold, slithery voice sounded. "Thirteen years it's been, and yet here you stand before me as though it were only yesterday. I confess myself...disappointed. Not one of you tried to find me."

He travelled around the circle, starting with Crabbe Sr., pulling down everyone's mask.

"Not even you, Lucius."

"My lord, I knew you would be back." _Play it cool, Lucius__. Don't let him read your mind. No need for another Imperius curse...or potion. He thinks you're still under its influence._ "It is better that I did not interfere. However, I will say that I have done my part. I slipped Ginerva Weasley your dangerous diary-" _under the potion's command_ "-and I helped organize the attack at the World Cup." _Because Parkinson was feeling a bit bored and came up with the idea_.

He-Who-Once-Could-Not-Have-Been-Named took this into consideration and nodded. "And I will say that I must agree. You have performed admirably. How is your son?"

_Oh no. We're not going down that road_. "He is doing well."

"What was his name?"

"Draco."

"Ah. Draco. Well, I suspect that Draco is at Hogwarts now?"

"He will be completing his fourth year this year."

"Excellent. This means that he'll be ready to join us soon?"

"Preferably when he is of age. He'll be a fully trained wizard then."

"Yes, but perhaps he will have to join a tad bit earlier. You see, I need all the forces I can get. Draco is a smart lad, is he not? To be your son and not disowned, he must be doing well in school. I'm sure that with some extra training this summer, he'll be ready to suit up by the time he is sixteen. I'm sure you agree."

"Yes, my lord. It would be an honor to have Draco in your service."

"As for the rest of you, I repeat how disappointed I truly am."

"I returned," Wormtail voiced and shrunk back right after saying that.

"Out of fear, not loyalty," came the reply. "Still, you have proved yourself useful these past few months, Wormtail."

He raised his wand and crafted a new metal hand for the cowardly former-Gryffindor.

"Oh! Thank you, Master. Thank you!"

The Dark Lord walked over to the body of the dead Hufflepuff whose name Lucius recalled to be Diggory.

"Oh, tsk, tsk, tsk," the creature mocked. "Such a handsome boy." He tapped the boy's face with his bare foot.

"Don't touch him!" someone yelled.

"Harry!" Voldemort exclaimed in false excitement. "Oh, I'd almost forgotten you were here, standing on the bones of my father. I'd introduce you, but word has it you're almost as famous as me these days. 'The boy who lived.' How lies have fed your legend Harry. Shall I reveal what really happened that night thirteen years ago? Shall I divulge how I truly lost my powers? It was love. You see, when dear, sweet Lily Potter gave her life for her only son, she provided the ultimate protection. I could not touch him. It was old magic, something I should have foreseen. But, no matter, no matter. Things have changed."

He lifted his forefinger. "I can touch you now." He pressed it to Potter's scar and the boy shrieked in pain.

Moments later, Voldemort stepped back and forced Potter to duel him. At the end of the duel, the two wands were connected. People that Voldemort had killed - Diggory and the Potters - were appearing in shadowy forms. They gave Potter some instructions and soon, Potter broke the connection. He "Accio"ed Diggory's body and the cup, and left the premises.

"NO!" The Dark Lord cried. "Alright. Everyone, to Malfoy Manor."

Lucius raised his eyebrows as Voldemort continued, "I'm sure Lucius will not mind if we use his home as a headquarters. I plan to stay there for the time being. Quickly!"

Everyone in the graveyard vaporized.

**A/N: Yes, I know that Voldemort is only in Malfoy Manor for a meeting during Draco's sixth year, but I wanted to make Malfoy Manor a headquarters during the fifth and sixth book in this series.**


	15. 15: HQ

Lucius was the first to arrive. The minute he did he called, "Narcissa, we'll be having some guests today!" The Malfoy Manor wards had never let anyone but a Malfoy apparate directly into the home. Of course, the wards could be adjusted, but everyone else had to either apparate in front of the gates or Floo into a heavily warded room. Since the era of Death Eaters, the wards had been changed to not allow any Death Eaters except for Lucius to vaporize in.

Narcissa appeared from the kitchen. "Who?"

"Them."

She understood right away and with a snap of her fingers, her robes changed. The fact that Lucius and Narcissa could perform wandless magic was a fact known only to them. Even their son was unaware of this.

Narcissa apparated to the gates to let the Death Eaters in.

"Hello. Lovely to see you. Welcome. To the small dining room, if you would."

The small dining room was not the same one in which dinner with the Parkinsons was held nearly three years ago. It was, in fact, a room with a large walnut dining set painted an antique black. Two large dimly-lit chandeliers hung from the ceiling that was extremely high and the fireplace provided another source of light in an otherwise dark room.

Once everyone was seated, the Dark Lord himself sat down at the head of the table. He tutted at the emptiness.

"Two decades ago, these chairs wouldn't be enough. Now, there are more chairs than Death Eaters. Many died, many fled, but worst of all, many turned. But enough of that. Our plan to move forward is this: isolate Potter. He is the only person alive that has seen other than you all, and I intend to keep it that way. No one will believe him as long as you all keep your mouths shut. Of course, I suppose Dumbledore-the old fool, he could have helped this side immensly-will believe Potter. Also, no more mass attacks. I heard that the attack at the Quidditch World Cup was successful but no more. We must lay low. In the meantime, we will proceed to solve our problems. There is a weapon of sorts that I need to collect by the end of the year. We will discuss this later. Right now, I must rest. Everyone, to your homes."

Narcissa saw the Death Eaters out and then returned. "My Lord, shall I show you to your room?"

"Certainly. Lucius?"

The man of the house rose and said, "I will write to Draco and inform him of the pleasant surprise that awaits him." He left and climbed the stairs to his study.

* * *

The minute Harry touched the cup, he was taken back to Hogwarts. Oddly enough, he didn't land in the maze. Some sort of charm must have been placed on it. However, when he appeared in front of the maze, in front of his fellow students, he broke down and couldn't think about any of this.

"He's back, he's back! Voldemort's back! Cedric, he asked me to bring his body back. I couldn't leave him, not there!"

"It's alright, Harry," Dumbledore tried to comfort him. "It's alright. He's home. You both are."

"Keep everybody in their seats," Fudge, the Minister of Magic, ordered as he walked over to Harry. "A boy has just been killed. The body must be moved, Dumbledore, there are too many people."

Amos Diggory pushed through the crowd to see his son. At the sight of Cedric's motionless body, Mr. Diggory burst into tears.

"My son!" he cried. "My only son!"

Draco watched this from his seat. This was all Dumbledore's fault. If only he'd listened to Draco. He saw Professor Moody approach Potter and take him away from the scene. Draco instantly rose and briskly jogged all the way down the stands, ignoring Blaise's questions. He marched up to Dumbledore and tugged on his robes.

"Sir, Professor Moody just took Potter inside. I'm telling you, he's Barty Crouch Jr. Please. You have to listen."

Dumbledore sighed. He told McGonagall and Snape to go with him. Draco followed suit. They stopped at the potions' cupboard to retrieve Veritaserum before hurrying to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Draco ran in front of the teachers and tried to open the door. It was locked.

"Alohomora!" he said, but that didn't work either. "Bombarda!" he tried. The door blew into bits. Dumbledore rushed inside and quickly disarmed Moody-Crouch sending him flying into his chair. By the looks of it, Moody-Crouch was just about to kill Potter so Potter was currently very grateful.

The three professors and Draco stormed into the room and stood around Moody-Crouch who seemed to be going back to his normal state. Snape quickly forced the Veritaserum down his throat while Dumbledore pointed his wand at Moody-Crouch and grabbed him by the neck.

"Do you know who I am?" Dumbledore questioned Moody-Crouch.

"Albus Dumbledore," the alleged criminal gruffly replied.

"Are you Alastor Moody?"

"No."

"Is he in this room?" When Moody-Crouch didn't answer, Dumbledore repeated the question in a more demanding voice. Moody-Crouch nodded and his eyes flew to a large chest next to Potter.

"Harry, get away from there," Dumbledore ordered. McGonagall gently shoved Potter aside. Draco unlocked the chest. When it opened, a slightly smaller one rose and it unlocked as well. There was another chest and another chest and about five more until the stack of chests was almost as tall as Draco. The five of them-professors, Draco, and Potter-slowly crept up to the chests and peered down. All the way at the bottom was a seemingly miniature man who looked exactly like Moody-Crouch.

"Are you alright, Alastor?" Dumbledore called.

"I'm sorry, Albus," the man responded.

"But if that's the real Professor Moody, then who's that?" Potter asked, nodding his head at the man in the chair.

"Barty Crouch Jr.," Draco replied. He walked over to the man and snatched the flask from him. He gave it to Snape and said, "I bet my broomstick that that's Polyjuice Potion."

Snape opened the flask, sniffed it, and nodded in confirmation.

"Now we know who's been stealing from your stores," Dumbledore told him. Turning back to the real Moody, he said, "We'll get you up in a minute!"

There was a shout, and everyone looked over at the fake Moody who was becoming Crouch Jr. He gasped and sputtered. His head rolled around his neck. It was becoming much to small to hold the real Moody's magical eye so Crouch took it off. His head arched back and then shot forward. The transformation was complete.

Potter leaned to get a closer look at the man who tried to get him killed and he lunged at the fourth year. Snape and McGonagall instantly stopped him and Snape poked Crouch's cheek with his wand.

"Barty Crouch Junior," Dumbledore said.

Tongue flick. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours." He raised the left sleeve of his jacket to reveal a wriggling Dark Mark.

"Your arm, Harry," Dumbledore nudged the boy. He rolled up Potter's sleeve and Draco saw blood drip from a large cut, made presumably by a knife of sorts. The blood flowed in various directions, and there was a good amount of it, too.

"You know what this means, don't you?" Crouch Jr. said. "He's back. Lord Voldemort has returned."

"I'm sorry, sir. I couldn't help it," Potter said to Dumbledore.

The old man turned to McGonagall and spoke. "Send an owl to Azkaban. I think they'll find they're missing a prisoner."

"I'll be welcomed back like a hero!" Crouch Jr. shouted.

"Perhaps," was Dumbledore's reply. "Personally I've never had much time for heroes."

He left with Potter. Snape quickly stunned the criminal and departed.

Draco knew that Crouch couldn't tell anyone that he saw Draco during this bust so he awakened Crouch with "Rennervate".

"Mister Malfoy, is it?" the man said the moment he set eyes on Draco. "Father must be so proud of you. I wonder if the Dark Lord will be proud as well."

"Most likely not," Draco sharply responded. "He doesn't know who I am."

"But he will soon. And when I tell him that you came in here with that Muggle-loving fool trying to save the Boy Who Already Lived Once Without Your Help, he won't be so pleased."

"Oh, but I don't believe you'll be telling him anything." Draco stunned him again and said, "Obliviate."

He was thrust into a large black space with a large timeline. The closest thing to Draco was the most recent thing to have happened. With his wand, he tapped the end of the timeline, and with his hand, he scrolled to the right so he could see the older memories on the left. When he found the part where Dumbledore disarmed him, he tapped that spot too. In the middle of the time frame, he drew a check mark with his wand while repeating the incantation.

Suddenly, he was back in the DADA office. Crouch was still stunned so Draco walked out of the room and shut the door.

Moments after the scene in Moody's office, Cornelius Fudge Flooed to the Ministry to bring back a dementor from the execution department. He strode into the office in which Crouch was still stunned, followed by Dumbledore and Snape.

"Raving lunatic, he is," Fudge said, "to think You-Know-Who's back and pretend that he's still serving him." He released the dementor and it kissed Crouch, taking the man's soul away.

"Cornelius!" Dumbledore fiercly exclaimed in rage. "How will he testify before the Wizengamot?"

"There is nothing to testify for," Fudge replied before simply pulling his dementor and Crouch's body away.

As Draco passed Dumbledore and Snape on all three of their way to the Great Hall, Draco asked, "What will happen to Crouch?"

Dumbledore told Snape to go ahead and then relayed the news to Draco.

"Wait, Fudge can't just march in and kill him like that! Now no one's going to believe that Voldemort's really back."

"I know, Draco, and it's all my fault."

"How?"

"You know how. I should have listened to you."

"But you had no reason to just break into Moody's office and search for the Polyjuice Potion, nor could you slip him some Veritaserum. It's-"

"-still my fault."

* * *

"Today we acknowledge a really terrible loss."

Dumbledore was up at the podium in the Great Hall. He spoke about Cedric Diggory's death and who his murderer was. Well, he said Voldemort killed him when it was really Wormtail. But though everyone in the room was grim, not all of them believed that He-Who-Needed-A-Nose was really back. Instead, those who didn't trust Dumbledore's word most likely believe Diggory to have had an accident in the maze.

When Draco was in his room, packing up his belongings, an owl flew to his window. Draco recognized his family messenger and the Malfoy seal on the envelope it carried. He tore it open gently and found the letter to be from his father.

_Dear Draco,_

_When you arrive home, there will be a surprise waiting for you. You may or not not consider it to be a pleasant surprise, but it is a surprise nonetheless. I believe that whatever your decisions are in the end will be for the best and even if your mother or I do not act like it, we both support you._

_Your father,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Decisions? His parents were verbally showing their support. This meant that bad things were coming.

* * *

Dumbledore left the Gryffindor tower, having explained to Harry that his friends, family, and professors would be there for him. He had also mentioned that the situation was his fault because he hadn't acted on Draco Malfoy's hunch.

Thus, Harry Potter was very confused.

* * *

"Can I have a quick word with you?"

Potter turned aronud and faced him. "What do you want, Malfoy?"

"Obliviate." Draco deleted his memory from the moment Dumbledore came into the DADA office to the moment Dumbledore took him out.

When he was back in the real world, he punched Potter.

"Ow! What was that for?!"

In pure Malfoy-no-_Draco_ fashion, he walked away without another word to the soon-to-be fifth year Gryffindor.


	16. 16: Holy Saint Francis

After a long and quiet train ride, Draco saw that his parents weren't there to pick him up so he had to Floo home by himself. When he arrived, he thought that no one was home. He wondered where his parents were, but most importantly, what his surprise was.

He jogged up the stairs to his room and entered to find...

...no surprise. His room remained the same as he had left it before departing for school the previous year. He quickly unpacked his bags and changed into his pajamas. He could really use a nap. The moment he slipped into bed his stomach grumbled. He sighed and put his home robe on before heading to the kitchen to get a snack.

At first, he didn't notice the two and a half people sitting at the breakfast table. He walked into the kitchen, three sets of eyes on him, and began to whistle "Rebirthing". He opened the fridge and collected the ingredients for a hamburger. Realizing that he'd left his wand upstairs, he strolled back into the breakfast area where he acknowledged his mother and took her wand without saying anything. He said a few spells and did some wand waving, and before he knew it, his burger was complete. He grabbed the plate and sat down across from his father.

"Hello, Father." He turned to his left and put the wand in front of his mother. Draco turned to the creature sitting across from his mother and nodded, saying, "Hello, sir. It's a pleasure to meet you."

He bit into the sandwich and chewed. "This is delicious," he said aloud. Suddenly, it hit him and he was standing up, exclaiming, "Holy Saint Francis! I forgot the mustard." He ran back to the kitchen and came back with a fixed problem. After a second bite and swallow, he leaped up, knocking back his chair. "Holy Saint Patrick!" He'd finally noticed Voldemort.

"Draco," Narcissa started, "we're not Christain...or Irish."

"Mother, is he who I think he is?" Draco turned back to the no-nosed being. "Are you who I think you are?"

"Surprise," Lucius said without emotion.

"Sir, I mean, my Lord," Draco said to Voldemort, "it's a pleasure meeting you. I said that two minutes ago, didn't I?" _Pleasure meeting you_, Draco thought_, and I hope you will begin to rot soon._

Soon, Draco had been filled in on the situation at the graveyard and that Voldemort believed that his father's house in Little Hangleton was no longer safe now that the Ministry had Crouch.

"He's dead," Draco said. Three pairs of eye froze.

"How do you know this?" Voldemort asked.

"Well, I saw none other than Cornelius Fudge drag his body and a dementor away in the halls at Hogwarts."

"Dementor's Kiss," Lucius said.

"What?" Draco asked, feigning ignorance.

"It means that Barty Crouch Junior's soul has been sucked out by the dementor."

Draco screwed up his face as much as he could and said, "Ugh."

"It doesn't seem fun," Lucius agreed.

"So," Voldemort said, "I believe it is possible to return to the house in Little Hangleton, but I have already had one incident with a nosy Muggle. I don't need any more of them meddling around."

"Which room will you be in?" Draco asked.

"The largest guest room on the second floor," Narcissa answered.

Draco almost sighed in relief; he was on the third. "Well, I guess I'll go to bed now." He excused himself from the table and climbed up the stairs. One question constanly ran through his mind: How did Voldemort sleep? Yes, he was human once, but Draco just couldn't picture the Dark Lord lying on a large bed, cuddling up to his pillow while shivering under the covers. Draco _shivered_ at that thought. It was definitely more frightening than the Dark Lord's idea of fun.

The Hogwarts Express had returned to Kings' Cross Station sometime in the evening, and now it was around eight o'clock. Much to early for bed during the summer. But Draco wanted to think. He didn't know how he would practice his magic now, even though he was significantly farther ahead than anyone in his class. He would try to spend a great deal of time in the library. The Dark Lord would never want anything to do with a fifteen year old.

Then he realized something: he was fifteen. School didn't end until the third week of June, and his birthday was in the first week. He hadn't even remembered his birthday since he'd started Hogwarts. His birthday was a day like any other. None of his friends had ever asked when his birthday was nor had they obliged to share their own.

Did people even celebrate their birthdays anymore? Perhaps his friends had little parties for each other in secret and left Draco out because...oh, say he was asleep then. "Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus"_ was_ the school motto: "Never tickle a sleeping dragon."

Draco shoved that thought out of his head; it was a stupid way of thinking. Yes, it was difficult to trust people these days, but he couldn't always rely on himself. He needed to trust-to a certain level, of course- that his friends were there for him...just like most of the Death Eaters were there for Voldemort.

**THE END**

**Well, I guess this book comes to a close. On to the next!...**


End file.
